


right on time

by leetlebird



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, You've Got Mail AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-05 21:26:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 49,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12197721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leetlebird/pseuds/leetlebird
Summary: Eric Bittle doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to dating, but even he’s embarrassed for himself when he starts flirting on Tinder with a guy who has a weird cat obsession, abs so perfect they border on trashy, and DL in his profile.Eric Bittle also hates the office finance guy, Kent Parson, more than is probably healthy to hate one of your coworkers.These two things are in no way related.Or, the You’ve Got Mail AU that had to be written.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title from hilary duff’s “all about you,” which i listened to like 87 times while i wrote this thing
> 
> remember when i just wrote non-offensive, fandom-approved ships like nurseydex and holsom?? good times. also, there is no jack in this fic. not for any shady reason, he just doesn’t fit.
> 
> if you, like me, are sensitive about age differences, here’s the deets -- bitty is 24 and kent is 28. that’s good for me; hope it’s good for you!
> 
> anyway YOU’VE GOT MAIL AU aka the plot this pairing was born for

Bitty has two voicemails that he has to respond to. He might have said, in his interview for this position, that he loves people and has great communication skills, and that might be _true_ , but he still doesn’t want to call anyone back right now. Business phone calls are hard.

Anyway, he was hired six months ago. He’s not completely new anymore, and he can probably get away with loitering at the snack table with Larissa. Someone had brought in donut holes, and they might be atrocious in comparison to what he’s capable of making, but they’re better than returning phone calls, and that’s all that really matters.

“Your phone’s blinking,” Larissa says, as casually as she can through a mouthful of chocolate donut.

“Mm-hmm,” Bitty says. 

“You’re a bad employee.”

Bitty can’t take her seriously when he knows she’s been standing up here and stuffing her face for the past ten minutes. “Maybe so.”

Larissa snickers, then smacks a hand over her mouth when a few donut crumbs go flying. She does have a reputation around the office for being intimidating, in that judgmental cool-art-girl way, but Bitty’s seen her make a fool of herself too many times to really buy that. “Don’t say a word,” Larissa finally says after she finishes chewing, and she grins at Bitty.

“Oh, you guys have donuts down here?”

Bitty fights the urge to pull the box of donut holes closer, but only because he was raised to have at least a little bit of class. He just -- he really, really hates Kent Parson, who shouldn’t even be over on this side of the office anyway. He’s got a stupid fancy office all for himself, instead of the open workspace almost everyone else is stuck with. 

There’s a separate snack table over by the wall of offices, where Kent belongs, and Bitty can admit it’s petty, but he doesn’t want Kent Parson stealing any of their food. Even if the donut holes are a little on the stale side.

“Yeah,” Larissa says. “Well, donut holes. Same thing.”

Kent smiles at her, in a way that some people might think is charming but that Bitty thinks has too much of a douchey smirk wrapped around it to really qualify. “They any good?”

“They’re just fine,” Bitty chimes in. Technically Kent hasn’t looked at him or spoken to him directly yet, but that’s because Kent Parson is a very rude person, and it’s not like it _bothers_ Bitty. “They can’t be better than the snacks you have over by your office, though. You have a whole tray of cookies over there, right?” He lays the sweetness on real thick. No one could say he’s been rude, but he knows that _Kent_ knows, and that’s what counts.

“Sure do,” Kent says, and grabs two donut holes out of the box. He pops one in his mouth and gives Bitty a horrible, self-satisfied smirk.

Bitty grinds his teeth as he smiles back.

  


  


  


He’s not a total screw-up, so Bitty does eventually return his voicemails. He schedules a meeting in two days with a rep from a business exploring the possibility of using their services, and he joins Will in a conference call with a disgruntled IT worker for an online magazine who seems to think their HTML problems are Will’s fault.

The HTML problems are _not_ Will’s fault, but the unpleasant tone of the conversation might be. Will gets a little temperamental with people who “don’t understand back-end programming,” whatever that means. Which is why Bitty is called in, and he feels like he’s had a successful day when the conflict is resolved, the HTML bugs left in Will’s capable-but-grumpy hands.

Bitty doesn’t know exactly how he found himself working at a company that specializes in web development, but his job doesn’t really touch on that anyway -- he’s here to ease in new clients, to maintain positive lines of communication with certain companies already on board, and sometimes -- as in today -- to smooth over interpersonal conflict here and there. 

He’s always living in fear that someone will ask him a tech question, mostly because it’s embarrassing to transfer a client with the most basic of concerns, but he gets a good salary and great benefits, so he can live with that particular shame.

“We’re going out for drinks later,” Larissa says, and Bitty knows she’s talking about herself and Derek Nurse. They have something of an alcohol problem, if the way they can drink Bitty under the table is any indication; Bitty’s not exactly a lightweight himself.

“Cool,” Bitty says. “Count me in.” 

He makes enough money that he can afford going out a few times a week. It’s unfamiliar territory, and it’s kind of awesome.

  


  


  


Another unfamiliar, but 100% awesome, part of Bitty’s new job is how quick and painless it was for him to come out. In his previous jobs -- and, granted, some of them were terrible jobs in other ways, too -- he had never felt comfortable coming out to more than one or two of his coworkers. 

Here, it only took Bitty two weeks to make sure the whole office knew he was gay. Maybe it’s because almost everyone here is young; maybe it’s because there are already a couple other people who aren’t publicly out, but whom Bitty either knows or suspects aren’t straight. Whatever the case, everyone knows Bitty’s gay, and it’s not a thing at all.

Well. It’s not really a thing, but sometimes it kind of is.

Like a few months ago. In an effort to keep on theme for Valentine’s Day, there had been this soulmate questionnaire that everyone was supposed to fill out, and a week later they got their results -- not sorted by gender. That was probably supposed to be an inclusivity thing, and Bitty appreciated the idea in theory, but in practice he’d been publicly matched up with a straight guy as his #1 Match, and that type of thing made Bitty viscerally uncomfortable.

It hadn’t helped that this particular straight guy was Kent Parson, who Bitty hated (well, strongly disliked) (well, okay, hated) for a variety of both petty and legitimate reasons.

It also hadn’t helped that almost everyone in the office turned it into a joke that lasted for another month after the results were published. Some of them did it in that obnoxious straight-liberal way, cheerfully homophobic and certain they were anything but, while others -- like Bitty’s friends at the office -- just did it because they knew Bitty hated Kent, and they wanted to give him a hard time about it.

The average straight guy would probably have been worse about it, Bitty knows, but that doesn’t mean he has to be okay with the way Kent had rolled his eyes, the way he’d laughed and said “Of _course_ ” when he saw the list, like getting stuck with the office gay was just his luck.

Personally, Bitty thinks Kent was the luckier of the two of them in that particular match-up. As if Kent Parson could ever deserve him.

  


  


  


**Wayne:** do you have an opinion on smells? like what is the most alluring scent

 **Wayne:** im hanging out w my straight friends and they have alarmingly strong views on what candles will most effectively lead to sex. i dont understand

 **Eric:** what exactly are you planning, if i might ask?

 **Wayne:** NOTHING i just am trying to figure out if this is a weird straight thing or not. currently lacking gay friends to ask. scraping bottom of barrel by asking u.

 **Wayne** : ;)

 **Eric:** well as long as i’m your last choice then! clearly light sweet scents will get the job done best. everyone knows this, wayne.

 **Wayne:** i literally dont even know what a light sweet scent is???? do you mean like mints??

  


  


  


There was a time in Bitty’s life when he was young, trusting, and innocent, and he had given his college friend, Ransom, the spare key to Bitty’s studio apartment. For emergencies, because Ransom was possibly the only responsible person that Bitty knew outside of the office.

Ransom had promptly made two copies of the key, shared them with Bitty’s other two college friends who were still in the Boston area, and now they all have a terrible habit of showing up uninvited.

So when Bitty opens the door at 9 P.M. to see the three of them already waiting for him, sitting in a circle on the floor and playing Egyptian Rat Race (or Rat Slap, as Chowder calls it), he’s barely surprised. “Y’all had better not have touched my wine,” is all he says, sliding his shoes off.

“You don’t have wine,” Chowder says. “You have cherry moscato. And Holster just had a little bit.” 

Holster freezes, and totally misses when two 7’s are played in a row and Ransom aggressively slaps the pile of cards, winning them all. “Shit,” he says. “Well, whatever. It was just a little.”

“It wasn’t,” Ransom says.

Bitty goes to make himself a snack plate of cheese and crackers. By the time he’s ready to join them on the floor, the game’s over and Ransom is putting the cards away. “How are things?” he asks the group at large. It’s only been a few days since he saw them last, but it’s always nice to check.

“We had a pretty chill day,” Ransom says, nodding at Holster. “I mostly worked on applications while he was gone, and then we just watched Netflix for awhile. Nothing too fancy.”

“Yeah, we can only afford _fancy_ once in awhile,” Holster says. Yesterday had been Ransom and Holster’s one-year anniversary of dating, and Bitty is already very familiar with what they did to celebrate, seeing as he’d been the one to sit down with Holster and help him plan the whole thing, since Ransom had been in charge of their six-month. “Ransom’s trying to get me into Lost, and it’s not really working, but we’ll see.”

“How do you not like Lost?” Chowder cries, and Bitty eats his cheese and crackers and tries not to doze off. They’d chirp him for the rest of his _life_ if they knew how early he’s going to bed these days.

When he tunes back in, Chowder’s just wrapping up a summary of his phone call with Farmer earlier that day. She’s still in London with her friends, because -- unlike Bitty -- she actually knows how to save her money instead of blowing it all on booze and organic fruit. 

“Bitty,” Holster says, in a tone of voice Bitty knows all too well, “how are things in _your_ love life? Go on any dates lately?”

“A few,” Bitty sniffs, which is true. Unfortunately, he was stupid enough to let Holster make his Tinder bio for him, and made the even worse mistake of agreeing to leave it that way for a whole month before changing it. Which means that Holster is now very, very curious about Bitty’s online dating experience, probably because he wants bragging rights.

Holster tries to raise just one eyebrow, mostly failing. “A few as in three? Or a few as in one?”

“It was two, actually,” Bitty says. In all honesty, he went on one real date, which was fairly pleasant, and one “date” that ended early so they could hook up and then never contact each other again, not that he’s going to tell Holster that.

“Nice going, Bits,” Ransom says, and he raises his fist for Bitty to bump. “See? We told you they’d still be interested without a picture.”

And that’s the part of Bitty’s new Tinder bio that he’d been worried about. Holster had sworn up and down that not having a photo of himself had been the turning point that allowed him to meet the perfect guy for him -- aka Ransom -- and that Bitty would love it too. 

In a way, it might be true; Bitty knows he has a certain look, from his height to his physical build to his freakily enormous eyes, and a lot of the time -- a _lot_ of the time -- men who are really not good news will zero in on him based on that. Usually he can weed them out fairly easily, but not always. 

Which is one way of saying that every guy he’s ever been in a relationship with has used him, in one way or another, and left him feeling taken advantage of. So maybe going a month without a Tinder photo makes him feel nervous that a lot of guys will completely ignore him, but it certainly doesn’t come without its up-side. 

“Are you still talking with Abs Guy?” Chowder asks, and Bitty kicks at him while Holster and Ransom laugh. 

He’s embarrassed that they know about Abs Guy, really. He only told them because he was going to meet this guy -- profile picture of his honestly delicious abs, name listed as “Wayne,” the first line of his bio reading “dl sorry about it” -- just so he could get laid, but Wayne had cancelled last minute, and that conversation had led to another conversation. And another, and another, and now here Bitty is, three weeks later, talking with Wayne every day and still never having met the guy.

“I just think it’s funny,” Ransom says, clearly holding back a giggle, “that you’re having all these heart-to-heart chats with some dude with DL in his description.”

“And a picture of his abs instead of his face,” Holster adds.

“Stop that,” Bitty says, blushing. “Anyway, that’s a little hypocritical for you to complain about, Holster, since you’re the one who told me not to use any pictures of _my_ face.”

Holster gives him an indignant look. “Yours is a picture of the beautiful cupcakes you baked from scratch, which sends a very different message than some douche and his sweaty abs, so don’t even start with me, Bits.” 

“His abs aren’t _sweaty_ ,” Bitty says. “They’re _perfect_.”

“That they are,” Ransom agrees reverently. Holster shoots him a dirty look.

“And he’s only sort of a douche,” Bitty adds. “He talks about his cat. Way too much.”

Ransom starts giggling outright. “That’s -- kind of terrible, Bitty. I’m afraid for you.”

Bitty rolls his eyes and gets up to wash his snack plate while the others continue making unfair judgments about his love life. His sad, nonexistent love life. Which mostly consists of PG-rated conversations with Wayne the DL Abs Guy.

Okay, Bitty is kind of afraid for himself, too.

  


  


  


**Eric:** so what’s your reason for being DL anyway?? if you don’t mind me asking.

 **Wayne:** it stands for dangerous lover i just thought it fit me

 **Wayne:** no idk. mostly to explain why u don’t see my face since a lot of people don’t know im gay  & i didn’t want being on tinder to stress me out like if they see me or whatever. but i wouldn’t mind a real date, it def doesn’t mean i’d only hook up

 **Wayne:** hypothetically

  


  


  


Sometimes Bitty thinks he might be the only morning person in his office. Not that he really pays much mind to what happens in other sections of their floor, but compared to the people who work right in his corner, he’s practically a songbird. 

Larissa always refuses to socialize in the mornings, glaring at anyone who dares approach her, and Will -- well, Will isn’t a morning person, or, as far as Bitty can tell, an afternoon person. Probably just not a people person in general, but Bitty loves him anyway. Derek usually doesn’t come in until eleven, but on the few mornings he is scheduled to work, he looks so sad and tired that Bitty can’t help but help him with filing. 

Today, apparently, is one of the rare times that they need Derek in early, because he looks up at Bitty with huge, tragic eyes when Bitty walks by his desk. “Coffee?” he says, low and mournful.

“You offering?” Bitty asks sweetly, mostly because they like to give Derek a hard time about being their secretary; once they found out he was practically a millionaire, his decision to work part-time answering the phone and filing paperwork became something of a hilarious enigma to the rest of them.

Derek pouts. “Can you bring me some?”

“Get some yourself,” Will snaps from where he’s doing something mysterious and computer-y at his desk. “It’s not Eric’s job to get it for you.”

“He can get it for me if he _wants_ ,” Derek says, his arguing skills markedly diminished this early in the morning. “This is _America_. Ugh.”

Bitty cuts them off before things can get truly unprofessional, mostly because he’s worked here longer than either of them and he feels like it’s his responsibility to make sure the boss doesn’t get a bad impression of Derek or Will. “I’m going to get some anyway; it’s no trouble. Will, would you like some?”

“No,” Will says, deflating. “That stuff tastes like crap.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Bitty says brightly, and walks away as quickly as he can just in case they try to start fighting again. 

“I’ll take some of that,” Larissa calls after him, and Bitty valiantly refrains from lifting his middle finger high in the air. Just because he’s at work. 

When Bitty turns the corner, he sees Kent at the coffee station, which seriously makes him reconsider the whole morning person thing. “Good morning,” he says, in that special tone of voice he has reserved just for Kent -- outwardly cheery, but laced with just enough venom that he knows Kent can feel it. 

“Morning,” Kent says. He’s taking his sweet time, stirring in the cream without moving out of Bitty’s way, and it’s so irritating that Bitty kind of wants to push him. “Oh, just so you know, the rep from that new makeup company we snagged has a bunch of questions and wants to meet with someone here. I told Rachel you’d be the best choice and she agreed, so make sure you brush up on Razzledome or whatever they’re called.”

“Razzletown,” Bitty says, and privately shakes his fist at fate that Kent makes 35% more than he does even though he can’t remember the basic details of the clients they work with.

“Sure,” Kent says. “They can only meet at 7:30, though, so you’ll have to stay late. Let me know if you have any questions.” He smiles at Bitty and walks away, and doesn’t even have the decency to trip and spill his coffee over himself like he _deserves_.

“I hate youuuu,” Bitty whispers, quietly enough that he knows he can’t be heard, and fills up four cups with horrible office coffee. If Will doesn’t want the fourth cup, Bitty can just give it to Derek -- he clearly needs it. 

Bitty feels like he might actually need something stronger. It must show on his face when he comes back to their corner, because Larissa just smirks at him and reaches for her coffee.

  


  


  


**Wayne:** i’ve been thinking about it and i feel like you’re wrong, wouldn’t the best pre-sex candle scent be something spicier?? why would you want it to be sweet?

 **Wayne:** HYPOTHETICALLY

 **Eric:** are you really only getting laid hypothetically? sad. 

**Wayne:** nooo i meant im not like trying to make this about you. i am not trying to woo you with spicy candles, i have my abs for that. i just don’t understand your logic is all. a sweet candle is for like…. a first date with conversation and kissing without tongue. you bring out the big guns aka a spicier candle when ur trying to get it in

 **Eric:** i will write that one down.

 **Wayne:** btw i know we’ve both been busy but maybe we could try to meet up again? for a date. idk if youre still busy or w/e but i figured since we’re still talking it would be cool. do you think maybe you’ll be free sometime in the next week?

 **Eric:** i believe i will be. day TBD but i will let you know.

 **Eric:** and this is a date-date, right? a sweet scented candle type of thing?

 **Wayne:** YES and that was all hypothetical i dont want you to think that i use candles to lure my dates in like i said it was just something weird my straight friends were talking about IT’S NOT REAL

 **Wayne:** i will take you to a nice restaurant and i will pay $$

 **Wayne:** in like, a gentlemanly manner

 **Eric:** well that’s good, because i am a gentleman

  


  


  


Bitty stays late for the 7:30 meeting with the makeup company, and then goes out with Holster, Ransom, and Chowder the next night, and then out for drinks with Larissa and Derek the next. He knows he should probably just pick an evening and set up a date with Wayne, but it’s hard -- he doesn’t have all that much free time, his friends are always pulling him away, and he’s nervous.

That’s the real reason. He’s just scared. First dates are torturous to get ready for, and the fact that he still doesn’t know what Wayne looks like doesn’t make it easier. At this point it wouldn’t be too hard to exchange selfies privately, but Bitty’s also kind of enjoying the way they’re doing things. It’s very You’ve Got Mail, and it makes him feel like he’s whimsical, maybe. Like he’s living a romantic and interesting life, in a way. 

He just wants to meet up with Wayne in an expensive, dimly-lit restaurant and only know who Wayne is based on the flowers on the table. It’s a _dream_ , okay, and he knows it’s silly, but he’s not letting it go just yet. And if Wayne ends up being incredibly dreamy with gorgeous eyes and a strong jawline, well… 

“Earth to Eric Bittle,” Larissa says, waving her napkin in front of his face, and Bitty snaps back to reality. “You’re done for the night, okay?”

Bitty glances at his empty glass. “Yeah. I don’t want to pay for another one anyway.”

“Cheap,” Derek teases, then winces, probably realizing how irritating it is for someone with his money to say that. “I’m ordering nachos, if either of you wants some. They’re not too terrible here.”

“I’ll get my own,” Larissa says. “I’m too hungry to share.”

Bitty accepts the offer, and while the nachos aren’t particularly amazing, they’re okay. “Is it just asking to be murdered by a serial killer if I go on a date with someone I met online and whose face I haven’t seen yet?” he asks out of the blue, because he wants them to weigh in, and because he knows they delight in hearing about his poor decisions.

“Online dating is cool,” Derek says, “but why the hell would you not see his face? Is this, like, a real date, or a hook-up with a guy with DL in his profile?”

Bitty tries to keep it off his face that Derek has hit a little too close to home. “My face isn’t on there right now either. Just as, like, an experiment. It’s a _date_.” Not that they’ve actually set up the details yet, but Larissa and Derek don’t have to know that.

“I don’t know why you want to go out with someone you don’t know in the first place,” Larissa says. “You’re cute and outgoing and awesome; you don’t actually need to find people online, you know. Have you tried asking guys out in-person?”

“Larissa, you’re dating a self-described male feminist,” Bitty says. “Do not lecture me on relationships.”

Derek waves that off. “I’ve met Shitty, and he’s awesome. Apart from the weird name.”

“He’s actually calling himself a feminist _ally_ now,” Larissa informs Bitty, trying to glare, but she ends up snorting out a laugh. “He can be pretentious and a little on the lecture-y side, but he’s the bomb. But let’s get back to you. If you go on this terrible idea of a date, do you have precautions set up in case he does turn out to be an axe murderer?”

“Um,” Bitty tries to think of something and fails. “Not exactly.”

“Dude,” Derek says, pulling his nachos out of Bitty’s reach. “You’ve gotta plan this. Meet somewhere super public, and tell a billion people you’re going and when you’ll be back, and take a surreptitious picture of him when you see him and send it to _everyone_.”

“No, don’t be surreptitious about it,” Larissa says. “Make sure he knows you’re doing it. Tell him you’re sending it. That way if he’s a serial killer he’ll know you’re not the one, you know?” 

Bitty groans and tries to grab a nacho, but Derek pulls them away again. He actually pulls them too far, sending half of the remaining nachos scattering across the floor, and Bitty has to laugh. “Smooth, Derek. Anyway. I’ll tell my friends, and I’ll send a picture to my mom, and I won’t die. Happy?”

“Ew, don’t send a picture to your _mom_ , that’s horrid,” Derek says. He looks genuinely disgusted. “Send a picture to me. I’ll tell you if he’s actually hot, too, so it’ll be like a win-win.”

“Whatever,” Bitty says. He’s starting to feel queasy just thinking about this date -- what if Wayne’s weird? Or gross and pushy? What if Wayne’s cool and sexy, but he doesn’t like Bitty? The existence of dating isn’t fair at all. “Tell us about _your_ love life, Derek.”

“Huh?” Derek says, turning slightly pink. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Larissa says, leaning in, and Bitty laughs.

  


  


  


**Eric:** okay, today’s question of the day -- what is something you like that most people don’t like?

 **Wayne:** thats so deep man

 **Wayne:** do you already have your answer ready? bc i might need to think about mine

 **Eric:** why of COURSE i do. i actually love cleaning. not necessarily the type of cleaning you have to do every day as a chore, but i love when i can set aside a couple hours to clean  & make it a whole event. i like how it feels to steadily make your living space brighter and better, and i like playing my favorite music while i do it and feeling accomplished when i’m done.

 **Eric:** of course, now i live in a sad little studio apt, so it’s not like i have that much space that really needs cleaning, but i can dream.

 **Wayne:** damn i wish i loved cleaning

 **Wayne:** my house isn’t like huge, but it’s a HOUSE, so it’s def big enough that it gets messy really easily and there are places i rarely set aside time to clean. i usually just make myself clean for like 15 min a day but thats not enough time to actually get important things done. which is probably why i do it that way since i hate cleaning.. sigh 

**Eric:** if you’re angling for me to clean your house, you’re going to have to work a lot harder than that

 **Wayne:** hey i mean if you love doing it…..

 **Wayne:** jk except like actually i hate cleaning so much. so im barely kidding.

 **Wayne:** anyway i like math

 **Eric:** that’s terrible, please explain.

 **Wayne:** idk if i have a good way to explain it like you did? im just good at it and i like the feeling of following an equation and getting the right answer. once you know how to do it there’s nothing to be confused about and there’s only one right answer

 **Wayne:** also DON’T read too much into that and psychoanalyze me lol

 **Eric:** no, i just wish i’d been talking to you during tax season, i would definitely have made you do my taxes for me.

 **Wayne:** there’s like literally no math in taxes but ok 

**Eric:** it’s okay, i just used turbo tax.

 **Wayne:** thats such a waste of money youre going to make me cry wtf

  


  


  


When Bitty sits down at his desk that morning, he has a Post-It note on his computer, as he so often does -- an agenda of his boss’s first priorities for him that day. As he reads through the short list Rachel left behind, he frowns.

_3\. Talk with Kent about cutting Razzletown_

He decides to be a little flexible with the agenda this morning and take care of that particular task first.

“Why do you want to cut Razzletown?” he demands from Kent’s office doorway, and immediately regrets it. He usually tries to toe the line between polite and chilly with Kent, and that was just outright rude. He tries again. “Do you think you might have made a mistake? We work with so many companies, and I’m wondering if someone got their names mixed up.” Like when Kent thought this company was called Razzledome, which Bitty doesn’t _say_ , but he knows Kent will remember.

“Nope, definitely cutting Razzletown,” Kent says, and takes a sip from his coffee cup. His arms look really good today, which is just one more reason for Bitty to hate him. “They’re already cut; we just need you to tie up the loose ends. Phone call should do it.” He reaches out to hand Bitty a file, then raises an eyebrow when Bitty doesn’t move.

“You just brought them in,” Bitty says. “How is this _not_ a mistake? We haven’t even started working with them yet.” 

Kent gets up from his chair and joins Bitty by the door, dropping the file into his hands since Bitty won’t take it from him. “This is one of those times where money matters,” he says. “They looked financially stable at first, but now that the complete probe of their financial data is in, we can see that they won’t be a good investment. The numbers are in here, not that you’d actually understand them, but you can look if you want to.”

Bitty would like to say something like _Does staring at numbers all day actually turn off your ability to treat people like human beings?_ but Kent has seniority over him. “What do you even want me to do?” he says instead. _Not that you’d actually understand them._ Like Bitty’s stupid for not being into financial analysis. Like Kent could ever do Bitty’s job; he’s too much of a douche to be responsible for initial communication with potential accounts.

“I emailed Rachel about the issue last night, so she already called their CEO. You’ve helped close down accounts before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” Bitty says. He has, and it’s always terrible and he always goes into the bathroom and cries a little afterward. 

“It’s just the same old, same old, then. Rachel and I have already signed off on the file, so when you’re done just sign your section and give it to Derek to put with the other terminated accounts. Got it?”

“Sure,” Bitty says. He feels overly upset for the situation, and doesn’t want to come across as sullen -- he might push the limit of how disrespectfully he can treat Kent when he sees him around the office, but it’s different when he’s reporting to him officially. “I’ll go do that now.”

He signs off on the file, glares at Kent’s signature on another page, and picks up the phone.

  


  


  


**Eric:** wayne

 **Eric:** we should set up that date.

 **Wayne:** ok! did you figure out a good time?

 **Eric:** would friday evening work? in 3 days??

 **Wayne:** yeah totally. i know a good spot, a place called johnson’s? it’s a good cafe, good location too. maybe around 7?

 **Eric:** i usually work until 5, so maybe earlier? i could meet up with you right after work, i think that place is pretty close

 **Wayne:** well on fridays i normally work until around 7. i could probably make it 6, but i’m not sure i could do something earlier than that. would that still be ok?

 **Eric:** 6 would be perfect! and i don’t want to inconvenience you, if you don’t think your boss is ok with 6 then i can make 7 work

 **Wayne:** 6 is fine, won’t be a problem

 **Wayne:** i’m glad you found a good day. gives me something to look forward to 

**Eric:** yeah, i just had a rough day and i needed something to look forward to too, i guess? now i’ll finally get to see those abs in person ;)

 **Wayne:** hey i mean i was planning on wearing a shirt. it’s a classy establishment. we’ll see how it goes, maybe you can see them after :)

 **Wayne:** rough day, though? what’s up??

 **Eric:** nothing terrible, just kind of stressful at work. i’ve got my tea, my favorite blanket, and netflix, so everything will be FINE.

 **Wayne:** sounds like the perfect remedy for a bad day. i mean for me its more like my cat, a beer, and a bruins game but same diff 

**Eric:** my, well aren’t you manly ;)

 **Wayne:** you wouldn’t say that if you saw me with my cat lol. she reduces me to nothing more then an adoring pampering servant

 **Eric:** awwww

 **Eric:** well i should go, i still need to unwind a little bit more before bed. i’m really looking forward to friday!

 **Wayne:** same :)

 **Wayne:** we’ll talk more about it before then. make sure we can spot each other and all that. enjoy your night and hope tomorrow’s way better!

 **Eric:** thanks wayne. give your cat a kiss for me ;)

 **Wayne:** yes sir

  


  


  


So yeah, Bitty might have had an awful day, but life still has its perks.

  


  


  


One of those perks appears to be having a grand total of one rich friend, because when Bitty goes into the office the next day, Derek’s already there and has left a beautiful, gorgeous, _expensive_ specialty drink from Starbucks on his desk.

“Thanks, Derek,” Bitty says, and is surprised to see that Derek is functionally awake already. “This is so nice of you.”

“No problemo, dude,” Derek grins. “Can you believe Rachel told me to come in early when she’s late herself? What am I even doing here?”

“She’s not late on purpose,” Larissa says with an award-winning eyeroll. “She called to say there’s some weird emergency with her car, so she has to get that taken care of first. She’ll probably be here by eleven.”

“Office party until she’s gone!” Derek shouts, probably only half-joking. “Wanna pool our money to get treats?” Okay, so not joking at all.

“No, Derek,” Will says. He doesn’t have a fancy drink on his desk, unlike everyone else in their corner, and he looks pissed.

“Okay, I get it, I have a bajillion dollars so I should pay for it myself,” Derek says. “Fair enough. What should I get?”

“ _No,_ Derek,” Larissa says. “We’re not having an office party. Kent’s in charge while Rachel’s gone, and he hates fun.”

“I don’t hate fun,” Kent says from the hallway that leads down to his office. Bitty almost laughs at the way Derek jumps and tries to look busy, but that would be giving Kent what he wants, so he keeps his face blank. “I think work is really fun, don’t you, Larissa?”

“Yes,” Larissa says, unimpressed. “I love it.”

“Great.” Kent walks up to Derek’s desk, drops a twenty on it. “Go get a couple boxes of donuts, huh? For work. So we can…” He glances at Will, who’s finally smiling. ( _Traitor,_ Bitty thinks illogically.) “So we can maximize our productivity. And our profits.”

“Awesome,” Derek says, getting up so fast he tips over his Starbucks drink. “Oh, shit. Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that.” He looks terrified for a full two seconds, until Will sighs and hands him a huge stack of napkins. “You keep napkins in your desk? Weirdo.”

“Those had better be some miracle-working donuts,” Larissa observes. “I think our productivity might be beyond saving today.”

When Derek comes back an hour later, he has three boxes of donuts, a bottle of non-alcoholic bubbly, and actual party streamers. “Ta-da,” he says, and Larissa grabs the streamers for him with more delight than Bitty thinks he’s ever seen from her. “Party time!”

The whole office has gravitated down to their corner, which is a little overwhelming because some of them are middle-aged with kids Bitty’s age, and sometimes he doesn’t know how to talk to them. Larissa’s still finishing up with the streamers, so he sticks by Derek’s side as they load up their paper plates with donuts.

“Is this the type of art stuff she does?” Will asks doubtfully. Bitty doesn’t really know, because Larissa’s invited them to her upcoming art show but hasn’t ever shown them any of her work. He has a feeling it’s not streamer-based, though.

Derek seems hellbent on making friends with Kent, which is upsetting on several levels for Bitty, but he supposes it makes sense for someone like Derek, who’s still only working part-time, to want to schmooze a little with an upper-level employee. 

It looks like Derek’s go-to schmoozing technique is telling Kent he has a friend who Kent would just be _perfect_ with, doesn’t Kent want to see a picture of her? “She’s into some artsy stuff, which might be a nice balance,” Derek is saying, “but she’s also super no-nonsense and hard-working, which gives you some common ground, right?”

“Maybe,” Kent says, looking vaguely annoyed. Bitty is just _itching_ to pull Larissa aside and tell her to come witness what a dick Kent is being, but that’s probably not up to standards of workplace professionalism. 

Derek has his phone out. “I don’t think you’re ready for this, bro. She’s so your type, I can totally see you with her. See?” He holds his phone out for Kent to look at the picture.

“Oh,” Kent says, looking at Derek’s screen. “Dude, really? I mean, I’m not insulting her, I know she’s your friend, but I don’t see that happening.”

“...Oh,” Derek says, slowly pulling his phone back. “Alright.” Even if Bitty were literally in space right now, he’d probably be able to see that Derek was offended.

Kent obviously sees it too, but he doesn’t apologize. “Trust me, I’m doing fine on my own. Anyway, it’s not a good idea to date someone you meet through a coworker, right? If she hates me, you hear all the bad stories.”

“Now, what bad stories could any girl have to tell about you?” Bitty says sweetly. He almost wants to walk away, mic-drop style, but that would kind of ruin the appearance of civility, so he just smiles at Kent.

“Who, me?” Kent says, his smile forced. “Well, you know how it is, there’s always something. Oh, or I guess you actually don’t know how it is.” He immediately flinches, like he didn’t mean to say that, and his discomfort makes Bitty feel more triumphant than offended in the moment -- in a way, it feels good to know that Kent just proved that he’s a horrible person in front of everyone. Kent turns away from Bitty, probably so he can keep his homophobic foot out of his mouth for the rest of the conversation. “Derek, dude, trust me. I’m not really looking for a relationship. Not with one girl at a time, anyway, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re a real heartbreaker,” Bitty says before Derek can answer. “Anyway, I think it’s time for me to get back to my desk. Phone calls to make.”

“Yeah, I’d better get back to work too,” Derek says, clearly still dejected. 

Bitty sits down, offers Derek a smile as he settles into his desk. He can physically feel his Kent Parson-related rage heating up his veins, but he tries to think positive -- looks at the streamers Larissa has finished putting up, thinks about wiping his dishwasher clean after work, tries to imagine what his date will be like in two days.

Kent Parson is a condescending, sexist, homophobic asshole, but he’s also pathetic, boring, and insignificant in Bitty’s life. He takes a bite of his donut, and he tries to remember that Kent Parson doesn’t matter.

  


  


  


**Wayne:** ok i made reservations for friday at johnsons

 **Wayne:** i will bring flowers to help you identify me if thats what your heart truly wants, but that seems kind of awkward to do in real life. what if i just tell you what coffee mug i’ll bring with? i can set it near the edge of the table so it’s easy to spot.

 **Eric:** that works for me! i’ll forever be heartbroken that you didn’t bring flowers though

 **Wayne:** i have this terrible cat mug thats purple with this huge black cat on it and at the top it says CATFFEINATED. not as romantic as flowers but i think that if i humiliate myself in public by being seen w that mug you have to give me some credit

 **Eric:** or maybe i’ll just keep on walking because i don’t want to be seen with that horrific mug

 **Wayne:** ouch

 **Eric:** maybe i can meet your cat after?? is this a big deal with you, like meeting the parents?

 **Wayne:** no because i will love watching you meet her no matter how she receives you. she’s cuddly but also a little skittish, so it could go either way for sure. she’s the best tho, try not to laugh at me for being so weird about her lol

 **Eric:** what’s her name??

 **Wayne:** thats privileged info actually… how about i tell you when you see her. i’ve already embarrassed myself enough by telling you about the cat mug thing, and her name is kinda :/

 **Eric:** aww i can’t wait to meet her :)

 **Wayne:** yeah. im excited to see you. idk if its possible for you to be as cute as the cupcakes you’ve got as your photo right now, but i’m looking forward to finding out ;)

**Eric:** and i’m looking forward to finding out if those abs are real or if i’m being catfished ;) 

**Wayne:** they’re real don’t libel me

  


  


  


Thursday night, Bitty takes an Uber down to Holster and Ransom’s house. They don’t own it; the house is a rental, with a landlord and everything, but Bitty absolutely loves it there. They have a beautiful row of potted flowers along their front porch, no thanks to their own maintenance -- the only reason the flowers are still alive is due to Bitty, Chowder, and Farmer. All of their furniture is cozy and just slightly too vibrant, and it’s kind of like heaven on earth, at least compared to Bitty’s tiny studio apartment.

Today it’s just Holster and Ransom there; Farmer’s coming home from her whirlwind vacation soon, and Chowder has been sort of freaking out about how much work he still needs to do to get their apartment looking nice again, so he’s off scrubbing the kitchen counter or something. 

They’d ordered in pizza, demolished it with a horrifying totality, and then lazed around on the living room sofas, Holster’s head in Ransom’s lap. Bitty had been playing on his phone for awhile, but now it’s safely tucked away in his pocket and he’s almost drifting off, lying on his side. “Y’all should get a dog,” Bitty says, just because he thinks it would complete the picture.

Holster groans as Ransom lights up. “Too much work,” Holster warns. “We need to start out with a gerbil or something.” 

“I can take care of a puppy,” Ransom says. “I’m only working part-time.”

Holster glares at Bitty, but it’s obvious he doesn’t mean it. “Now look what you’ve done, Bits. Brought turmoil into our home.”

“I demand a puppy!” Ransom fake-yells. He tickles Holster’s nose and grins across the room at Bitty. “Actually, I think it would be really cool to have a huge aquarium with, like, different kinds of tropical fish. That would be _tight_.”

“That would be _expensive_ ,” Holster says. “Let’s just get a Chia pet or something.”

“Holster, that’s terrible,” Bitty says, laughing. “Come on, if you’re thinking about getting a pet, a cat might be good. They don’t need you to put in that much time looking after them, right?”

Ransom grins at him, and it’s such a knowing and evil grin that Bitty thinks he might shrink a little bit. “Why, Bitty, where is this sudden interest in cats coming from?”

Bitty knew he shouldn’t have told his friends how cute Wayne’s cat obsession was. He _knew_ it was a bad idea a second after it had left his mouth, and now look where it’s gotten him. “I don’t have a sudden interest in cats,” he says, as scornfully as he can. “Everyone knows they’re easy pets to take care of. It’s just common knowledge.”

“So common even Wayne knows it, huh?” Holster snarks. 

Bitty is a little embarrassed that he’s into someone whose face he’s never seen, but whose abs he stares at for an hour every day, with DL _still_ listed in his profile, and who seems to be something of a cat lady. But God, is he into Wayne, and maybe he’ll get a cat just to show Ransom and Holster.

Well, he can’t get a cat. His apartment has a no-pet policy. It’s the thought that counts, anyway.

“Oh, hush,” he says, instead of saying any of the ridiculous thoughts running through his mind. “Okay, but actually, what if I ruin everything tomorrow? We’ve been talking for so long, I’m going to be legitimately sad if the date is a mess.”

“It won’t be a mess,” Ransom assures him. “You’re, like, a perfect person. He’ll be charmed right off his feet. He’ll want to tell his cat all about you.”

“If he doesn’t like you, we’ll beat him up,” Holster says. He still looks sleepy, sprawled out on the couch. “Only a soulless monster could resist your awesomeness, bro.”

Bitty smiles. “Oh, right, how could I forget. Everyone likes me.”

Ransom points at him. “That’s because you’re living your life by that old adage -- if you like other people, they’ll like you too.”

“That’s not an adage I’m familiar with.”

“The best way to have a friend is to be a friend,” Holster attempts. “The people you find most interesting are the people who show interest in you. Same idea, right?” 

“Totally,” Bitty says. 

Ransom grins. “I’m saying people love you because you love everyone. You give everyone a chance, right, Bits?”

“No, we’re working on that,” Holster says, sitting up so he can point at Bitty with a serious expression. “Not everyone deserves a chance with you, remember?”

Bitty rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Right, right. Then you’d be proud to know that I still hate the finance guy at the office, Holster.” 

“That’s my boy,” Holster says. He gives Bitty a thumbs-up. 

“What’s he doing now?” Ransom asks. Unlike Holster, he doesn’t take any vicarious pleasure in hating on Kent without meeting him; he just likes to hear Bitty be dramatic.

Bitty doesn’t even know where to start. “He is vile. Actually, he was worse than usual yesterday. He was talking about girls, like it’s super necessary for him to remind everyone that he’s a misogynistic douche and treats women like objects or something, and he was all, ‘You know how it is with girls, Eric. Oh wait, you don’t.’” Bitty adds in a somewhat theatrical evil-villain laugh. “He’s always so condescending. And fake, and mean, but usually he doesn’t play the homophobic card.”

“Dude,” Ransom says, “that’s messed up. You should report him to HR. Like, actually.”

“Eh,” Bitty says, like it doesn’t really matter. Even if he’d shrugged it off at the time, later he’d been upset, angry that Kent had the power to make him feel embarrassed over something that shouldn’t be embarrassing, but he’s trying to be over it now. “I don’t want to go through all that. And I’d say he probably didn’t mean anything by it, but he’s terrible, so I’m sure he did.” Bitty glances at Holster, who still looks murderous, and sighs. “If he does something like that again, I’ll say something. Probably.”

Ransom looks a little concerned, but he just says, “Good.”

“Our next lesson is being assertive,” Holster tells Bitty. “You’re doing okay at hating him, but you could be doing better at standing up to him.”

“All in good time,” Bitty says cryptically, although he has no intention of ever doing anything.

“Right,” Ransom says, in a tone of voice that suggests he doesn’t buy any of this. “Okay, Bits, wanna make indoor s’mores with us? We finally got the marshmallows and everything.”

Everything is perfect at Ransom and Holster’s house, Bitty thinks as he goes into the kitchen with Ransom. The fact that they even _have_ a kitchen all in its own room makes their place better than his. 

Bitty wants to move; he might even be able to afford it if he saves for another few months. He just doesn’t know if it’s worth it when he doesn’t have someone to share the extra space with.

“No, baby, don’t make them without me,” Holster whines, running after them and latching onto Ransom.

Bitty watches them together: the warmth, the casual touches they don’t have to think about, the laughter. He smiles, and only feels a little jealous.

  


  


  


Friday comes along, and Bitty carefully hangs up his date outfit in his car. He doesn’t want his co-workers teasing him about his “hot date” or any other mortifying way they can communicate that they’re thinking about him getting laid. 

It’s a great outfit, though. A blue, short-sleeved button-up with a cute little palm tree print, his favorite pair of dark jeans, and a cream-colored sweater, just in case the cafe ends up being too air-conditioned for his liking.

All day, he vacillates between being totally focused on work and being gripped by sudden crisis modes brought on by remembering that he’s going on a _date_. Even the fact that he’s helping Bandin, his favorite company they work with, plan out a webpage for an upcoming charity event they’re organizing can't distract him for more than a few minutes at a time. 

Bitty always feels anxious before first dates, but this one feels especially nerve-wracking -- he doesn’t know what he’ll think when he sees Wayne’s face, or what Wayne will think when he sees _Bitty’s_ face, let alone how their personalities will mesh in real life. He knows he needs to be calmer about it, but Bitty always feels scared that he’ll be into someone who never even wants to see him again, and he doesn’t want that to happen with Wayne.

It’s not like their conversations have been particularly life-changing, but Bitty feels like they have a good connection -- the same sense of humor, the ability to talk about a wide variety of topics, and it doesn’t hurt that Wayne’s abs (if those are really his) are mind-boggling. 

Bitty has a tendency to think about those abs a lot.

“Eric,” Larissa says, not moving from her desk. “Are you having a moment?”

Bitty jerks his head up. “Hmm?”

She shrugs. “You keep looking like you’re completely terrified, but then you get this lascivious look in your eye and zone out for awhile before cycling back to terror. Don’t get me wrong, it’s sort of entertaining to watch, but are you good?”

Will and Derek are eavesdropping. Bitty doesn’t want to invite them into this particular confidence, so he just glares (as best as he can, which unfortunately isn’t very intimidating at all) and pretends to be writing an email.

When he feels his phone buzz a few minutes later, it’s a message from Larissa. _Seriously, are you ok?_

 _Mostly. Date right after work._ Bitty puts his phone away, watches Larissa read his message. She smirks and gives him an over-the-top wink when she looks up, and Bitty can barely force a scowl onto his face before he’s laughing.

“Are you done?” Will asks, cranky at the interruption.

“Yes, Will,” Bitty says. “I apologize for disturbing our professional work environment.”

Derek starts giggling, and Larissa smirks at him, and Bitty feels his heart rate pick up yet again. He wonders what kind of guy has pornographic abs and a CATFFEINATED coffee mug. 

Maybe his future husband, or maybe a grade-A douche. He’s not sure there’s much middle ground on this one.

  


  


  


**Eric:** excited!! see you in a few hours :)

 **Wayne:** looking forward to it :) :)

  


  


  


Bitty clocks out at five, like always, and drives until he finds a parking space a few blocks away from Johnson’s Cafe. He still has almost an hour before he’s supposed to show up, so he takes his date outfit into a Barnes & Noble so he can change in the bathroom. 

He spends some time browsing through the children’s section, looking for old favorites and examining the new offerings. The illustrations range from ugly to awe-inspiring, and Bitty loses himself in a Shel Silverstein book he’d forgotten about. When he emerges, Bitty wonders if it’s a bad idea to grab a coffee from the bookstore’s cafe before going to meet Wayne, looks at his phone to see it’s already 6:01, and realizes he’s late.

 _Well,_ he thinks, rushing out of the bookstore and onto the sidewalk, _at least he’ll have time to get set up with his cat mug._ Bitty wonders if he should open the Tinder app to let Wayne know he’s running a couple minutes behind, but the cafe’s right around the corner, and it seems like too much of a hassle when he could just walk faster. 

When Bitty is in sight of the cafe, he slows down, trying to breathe normally. He’s only five minutes late, but he still feels guilty. Once he feels his heart rate slow down to something approaching normal, he looks over his reflection in the darkened window next to Johnson’s, checking his hair and his outfit and making sure his face doesn’t look too flushed. 

He’s not sure he could honestly say he looks _good_ , but he doesn’t think he looks terrible either. 

“Okay,” Bitty whispers to himself, trying to get some confidence back, “he’s going to like you. You’re great. You’re _great_.”

It’s not his most convincing speech, but he can’t stand around and wait for confidence to find him; he’s already late. Bitty walks to the front door of the cafe, which is propped open. He can hear what sounds like Norah Jones music from inside, and he knows it’s time. 

Bitty inches into the doorway, trying to get an idea of the layout of the place before stepping in all the way. There’s one main dining area that he can see, plus what looks like a smaller seating area that he can just glimpse through a doorway cut into the wall. There are a few booths, but mostly tables, each with a small jar of flowers placed on its surface. 

He scans the tables for a coffee mug, both because he doesn’t want to wander around the place aimlessly and because he wants to get a quick look at Wayne before Wayne can see him.

For a moment, Bitty wonders if it’s a hopeless task -- the cafe uses a variety of what look like handmade mugs for its drinks, and they’re all different colors and sizes, making it hard to zero in on a mug that someone would have brought in themselves -- but then he sees a purple mug with a huge, borderline-frightening black cat on it, and he feels his pulse pick up again.

When Bitty looks above the mug to see what Wayne looks like, he feels like his whole mind is temporarily converted to nothing but white noise.

He expected Wayne to be good-looking, but he didn’t expect Wayne to be _Kent Parson_ , and now it doesn’t really matter how good-looking he is. 

Bitty steps back into the street before Kent can look up and see him. He doesn’t -- is this a joke? Is Kent setting him up as a mean, unfunny joke? 

He only had seen Kent sitting at the cafe table for a few seconds, but he’d looked sort of excited, and nervous, and way too attractive in that shade of purple. Bitty’s mind is still in panic mode, feelings and ideas swirling too quickly for him to pin anything down, but he really doesn’t think this is a joke. 

Just a terrible, awful coincidence that he’s going to look back on with horror for the rest of his life.

He can’t go in there. He can’t go on a date with Kent (ew), and he can’t go in just to explain and apologize, because if Kent is gay and hiding it at work, this is not at all the way that Bitty wants to start that particular conversation. 

He feels paranoid now, like Kent’s going to come over to look out the window and see Bitty there, or that Kent’s going to figure out that the Eric he’s been talking to on Tinder is the same Eric he’s so condescending to in the office, and Bitty turns around and practically runs to his car.

This is the worst date ever. Bitty’s going to kill Holster for talking him into not using his face on his Tinder profile. He’s -- finally at his car, and Bitty throws himself into the driver’s seat, turns the key, blasts Tinashe so he can’t hear himself think, and drives away way too fast.

  


  


  


Ten minutes go by, and Bitty hiccups and very carefully doesn’t cry, and he goes through the cycle of hyperventilating and getting his breathing under control a few times before he feels ready to pull into a Starbucks.

Caffeine is probably the last thing he needs right now. He orders a drink anyway.

Bitty squeezes into a little table in the corner, holding his drink close so he can feel its warmth even though it’s summer. He usually doesn’t sit inside Starbucks, but he just needs a low-key, public place to gather his thoughts right now.

And he has a lot to think about, which is hard when all he can focus on is his feelings. So he waits for his drink to cool down a little more, and he waits for his emotions to have their fill of washing through him. 

He’s embarrassed, and disappointed, and guilty, and amused in a mean-spirited way, and guilty again for _feeling_ amused, and scared. 

Scared, because he doesn’t know what to do, so Bitty takes a slow sip of his drink and tries to focus on what comes next. He can take care of feeling scared, and then his other feelings can line up to be taken care of after that.

Knowing that Kent likes men changes certain things, of course, but it doesn’t change that Bitty believes Kent to be an arrogant, mean person who likes to use his position of authority to feel superior over others. Bitty might need to rethink _some_ of his assumptions about Kent, but that much hasn’t changed.

But he feels compassion for Kent, which is a big change. Bitty can never relate to Kent’s ability to blend in, to be so successfully and completely closeted that no one even _questions_ his straightness. That’s never been Bitty’s life, for a variety of reasons. And even though Bitty has, at certain moments, felt jealous of people who can so effectively come across as straight, who can avoid the rumors and the insults and the threats, he knows it must come with its own challenges. Maybe some challenges that Bitty doesn’t experience, either.

In one specific way, it doesn’t matter how Bitty feels about Kent. The truth is that he liked Kent when he thought Kent was Wayne, he was excited to go on a date with him, and he showed up just like he was supposed to. Kent might be a douche -- and Bitty is very, very certain that he is -- but it’s not fair to let Kent believe that he was intentionally stood up. 

A petty voice in Bitty’s head thinks it might be good for Kent’s oversized ego if he thinks he was stood up, but Bitty tells that voice to shut up, please.

He thinks, and he struggles to come up with a believable excuse, and he thinks some more, and then he gets an idea.

It’s already 6:40. Kent has probably given up on waiting for him by now.

  


  


  


**Eric:** Hi Wayne, I’m really sorry about tonight. Long story short, my position at work is being terminated  & they gave me the choice to either resign or move to NY to work at their other branch. I’m moving, and I’m not leaving for a couple days but this whole thing has been so stressful & I just found out this afternoon & I completely forgot our date. I’m really sorry, I would have let you know I had to cancel if I remembered. Really wish I could have gone. Hope you didn’t wait too long, I feel just terrible. I’m sorry!!!

  


  


  


For some reason, Bitty feels even worse after sending his excuse. He finishes his drink too quickly, and tries to tell himself he’s only shaking because of the caffeine.

  


  


  


  


  


  


Bitty’s mostly calmed down by the time he parks in his building’s lot, or at least he’s calm enough that he thinks he’ll be able to sleep tonight. So -- good enough.

He shouldn’t be surprised when he finds his door already unlocked, with Holster, Ransom, and Chowder all waiting for him. Chowder’s already opened the pull-out bed and is sitting on it; Holster and Ransom are waiting at Bitty’s tiny kitchen table. 

“Did you really need to stake out my place?” Bitty asks tiredly, but he keeps any trace of irritation out of his voice. It’s not their fault everything turned out awful.

“Oh,” Chowder says, “you’re back way early. Was it bad?”

Bitty doesn’t answer, just tosses his sweater onto the back of his comfy chair and sighs. He takes the leftovers out of the fridge and starts warming them up. They were supposed to be for lunch tomorrow; now he’s going to have to make different plans.

“Bits?” Ransom asks, obviously worried. “Are you okay?”

Well, what the heck. They’re never going to meet Kent anyway, so it’s not like Bitty’s _really_ outing him if he tells them the truth. “I literally cannot believe what happened tonight,” he says, turning around to meet their eyes. “Literally.”

He tells them, and they freak out. Like he knew they would.

Holster wants him to go back on Tinder and send Kent a way meaner message, which Bitty is _not_ going to do, and Chowder thinks they should go bowling because apparently _that_ will take Bitty’s mind off things, and Ransom is already pulling up pictures of literally _fourteen_ different guys that he claims Bitty would totally hit it off with.

“Ransom, why do you have this harem hidden away for me, stop,” Bitty groans. “I just need to take a break from the dating scene; I’m clearly cursed. Holster, sit down and think about the person you’re becoming. Chowder, we can go bowling this weekend; tonight I just want to watch a rom com and regret all my life choices.”

“We can do that too,” Chowder says, so they make a cuddle pile with Bitty at the center and turn on Legally Blonde. It’s a pretty decent time, and Bitty only thinks about the whole thing with Kent every once in awhile.

  


  


  


They do go bowling, and Bitty stress-bakes and stress-cleans and stress-bakes some more, which is kind of unfortunate in the sense that he doesn’t really have much space to store his finished baked goods.

And then it’s Monday.

Kent had responded to his Tinder message late on Friday night, wishing him well in New York and assuring him that it wasn’t a big deal. Bitty hadn’t known what to say, so he hadn’t responded at all. It’s probably better this way.

He’s just thinking about deleting his Tinder account and starting over when he gets a new message from Kent. From “Wayne.” Whatever.

  


  


**Wayne:** hey eric, not sure if you’ve moved yet, but just wanted to say good luck! wish we could have had that date, but it is what it is. hopefully we can still talk now and then, it’s been fun :)

  


  


Bitty’s stomach hurts. Yes, it _was_ fun, back when Wayne was just Wayne and not a corporate douchebag, and Bitty’s just -- not going to answer. Kent will get the hint, and the truth is that Bitty wouldn’t be able to morally justify continuing this relationship, even if it’s just talking. He can’t talk to Kent anymore, not when Bitty knows what’s going on and Kent doesn’t. 

Also, he doesn’t want to talk to Kent anymore. He can’t want to. 

Bitty puts his phone on do-not-disturb, locks the door behind him, and leaves for work.

He is so not looking forward to this.

  


  


  


Bitty manages to avoid crossing paths with Kent until he gets back from his lunch break and finds Derek sucking up to Kent _again_.

Will is scowling at his computer screen. Larissa is watching Derek with amused horror, because he has a tendency to make a fool of himself where authority figures are concerned. 

Especially, Bitty thinks, when the authority figure in question is hot.

Like -- Derek is bi, Bitty knows, even though he doesn’t talk about it at work. So, just from a reasonable point of view, Derek probably thinks Kent is hot. Objectively.

“Kent, uh,” Derek is saying, “Mr. Parson? I don’t get where to file some of this stuff. Do I need to make a new folder for every company we talk to, or do I wait until they’re officially signed on?”

Kent rubs a hand over his face and sighs while the guy he’s with, a man named Nathan who’s not in the financing department with Kent but works over on that side of the office in a job Bitty doesn’t really understand, laughs in delight at Kent’s discomfort. “You do _not_ need to call me Mr. Parson. Kent’s fine. And yes, please make a separate file for each company we’re in contact with, and file those folders in the appropriate section depending on what stage we’re in as far as doing business with that company. Anything else?”

“Uh,” Derek says, caught with nothing else to say. “How was your weekend?”

Will lets out a pained snort; Bitty tries not to laugh. He only succeeds when he remembers how Kent’s weekend actually was.

“Oh.” Kent shrugs. “Good. Went for a date on Friday, played some golf on Saturday. Nothing much yesterday. You?”

 _Um,_ Bitty thinks. _Went for a date on Friday? Seriously?_

Derek brightens right up, and Bitty can see Larissa briefly cover her face in her hands. “Oh, my weekend was awesome. Wrote, like, fifteen thousand words, plus I partied at this sick new club? Can’t complain.”

“Dude,” the other guy, Nathan, says, his body language cutting off Derek like he isn’t even there as he turns to talk to Kent, “you went on a date? How’d _that_ go?” There’s something dirty in the way he says it, and Bitty would very much like it if Kent and Nathan both went back to their own section of the office.

Kent glances at Larissa, for some reason -- maybe because she’s the only woman in hearing distance -- and shrugs. “Fine. Just dinner and then some hanging out, you know.” He says it in a dirty way, too, and Bitty kind of wants to hit his own head against the wall. 

This is just pathetic. And still douchey.

“Nice,” Derek says, and Nathan nudges Kent back toward the evil rich person side of the office, ignoring Derek completely.

Kent doesn’t look back.

“Hey, so,” Bitty can hear Nathan saying as they walk further away, “was she hot or what?”

“Hell yeah she was,” Kent answers, and now Bitty can’t stop himself from dropping his head onto his own desk.

When he sits back up, Derek is sifting through his files, pretending he didn’t notice being snubbed; Will is back to typing like a man possessed; and Larissa is waiting for Bitty to look at her. “Straight guys,” she says, catching his eye and shaking her head. “Am I right?”

Bitty fakes a laugh.

  


  


  


It’s uncomfortable, being around Kent. 

Bitty’s never particularly liked being around him, which is a gigantic understatement, but this is different. Before, Kent was someone Bitty hated in a simple way -- he was fake, putting on a facade of professional civility when he was really a turd, and treating Bitty worse than he treated other people around the office. Now that’s still all true, if a bit tempered by the knowledge that some of Kent’s fakeness must stem from his being closeted. 

But now, it’s difficult to be around Kent because Bitty actually feels _sorry_ for him. And he doesn’t know what to do with that.

  


  


  


**Wayne:** hey have you moved in yet?

 **Wayne:** i used to live in ny i can probably give u some tips and stuff

  


  


  


A few days go by. Bitty finds himself in the unfortunate position of being assigned to the same retraining session as Kent, and the only other person he knows in his group is Larissa. They go through the basic retraining on their computer system and a change to their documentation, and then the woman Rachel brought in to lead the training session gives them a ten minute break. 

The training supervisor has quickly made it to the top of Bitty’s list of favorite people, since she brought in a little hot chocolate cart with mini cookies to snack on as well, but he doesn’t feel like he can relax when Kent is sitting near him and Larissa. 

Bitty tries to focus on the story Larissa’s telling about the recent date she had with her weird boyfriend, but it’s hard to concentrate when he can see Kent eavesdropping. 

Larissa finishes narrating her date, which sounded like the kind of horrible hipster experience that Bitty would never enjoy but that works for Larissa, and then she looks right past Bitty at Kent. “Hey, money guy,” she says, and Kent smiles at her. “You have any exciting dates planned for this weekend? I’m told you’re a real ladies’ man.”

It has to be a dig at the way he’s talked about women, and is well-deserved, but Bitty kind of wants to crawl under the hot chocolate cart and die. He doesn’t remember the three different types of irony from English class anymore, but he’s pretty sure this qualifies as at least one of them. And it’s not as fun in real life. 

“Uh, nothing planned for this weekend,” Kent says. He seems to find some of his regular confidence, and he shrugs, smirks a little. “Sometimes it’s good to rest up, you know?”

Ick. Bitty’s sympathy kind of disappears for a moment.

“Nothing at all?” Larissa asks, sounding more bored than anything. “I thought you were supposed to be, like, a lady killer. Aren’t you one of those one-girl-a-week types?” Her tone is neutral, but she doesn’t soften it with a smile.

Kent looks like he might be realizing something. “No. That’s not me.”

“Larissa,” Bitty says, unable to sit there a second longer, “would you like more cookies? Hot chocolate? I think I’m going back for more.”

“Yes to both,” Larissa says, examining her cuticles and not looking up.

Bitty tries to take his time at the treats cart, but he has to return to his seat eventually. There are only a few minutes left of their break, and he prays they pass quickly, and preferably with Kent on the opposite side of the room so Bitty doesn’t have to feel sorry for him or annoyed by him anymore.

Things aren’t looking up. When Bitty sits back down, passing the cookies and hot chocolate to Larissa, Kent is -- apologizing?

“That wasn’t appropriate of me at all,” Kent is saying, as Bitty tries not to outwardly react. “It’s probably hard to believe this, but I really take it seriously that our workplace needs to be safe for everyone, and I’m sorry that I didn’t realize ‘till now that I was making it a bad place for you. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Larissa blows on her hot chocolate. “Okay.”

Kent mumbles one more apology, then moves to a different chair across the room to give them some space. He looks embarrassed. Bitty appreciates this gesture, probably more than Larissa does, as far as he can tell. 

“That was funny,” Larissa comments. “I generally think of him as a harmless douche, but that really brought him up in my eyes to an entertaining harmless douche.”

“Yeah,” Bitty says faintly, and tries not to look across the room to see how Kent’s doing.

  


  


  


**Wayne:** random question, were you able to find a place to live that’s better than your old one? i was just thinking about how you wanted to be able to clean more :)

  


  


  


“This is so sad,” Bitty whispers into his hands. Holster tries to look over his shoulder, and Bitty quickly turns his phone over.

  


  


  


Bitty has been home from work for a few hours. It’s Friday night, one week since his horribly failed date with “Wayne,” and he’s managed to extract promises from all of his friends to kindly stay out of his hair for just one evening. He needs the chance to just relax and catch up on his shows, and he’s been looking forward to it to a degree that’s probably unhealthy. 

He checks Tinder to see if Kent is still messaging him. Which is also a little unhealthy.

And -- oh, no.

  


  


**Wayne:** Hey Eric I’m sorry to keep talking to you when you probably don’t want to now that you’re far away, I guess I just wanted to explain why I am in case it’s really annoying you. (Also I’ll stop.)

 **Wayne:** I don’t really have gay friends in real life and no one but family/exes know I’m gay so I had been hoping we could keep talking just as friends. It was really nice to have someone to talk to and not have to lie about who I am, if that makes sense. I wanted to keep talking even after you moved, but that’s not really your job  & it’s actually my job to find people in real life to talk to about stuff, so I’m sorry if I was pushing too much. In hindsight I think it came off that way and I’m sorry.

 **Wayne:** It was great getting to know you, and I hope you’re settling in okay!

  


  


  


Bitty might actually cry. 

He opens up a new message.

This is a terrible idea. For so many reasons.

  


  


  


**Eric:** oh i’m sorry wayne! it’s been so crazy with the move, and to be honest i haven’t opened tinder at all since i got here. just checking now. it would be totally fine if we talk now and then -- it’s super important that you find some people to share these things with in boston, so they can support you in real life, but i liked getting to know you too. we can still chat as friends once in awhile, i would like that.

  


  


  


Bitty puts his phone down and covers his face with his hands, groaning. This is going to be a huge mistake; he can already tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have all 3 chapters written already, so I'll probs just add one every other day because, as Hilary Duff once said, why not????


	2. Chapter 2

Bitty is tucked against Ransom’s side at a Chicken and Rice Guys booth, which is actually something he was sure he would never do again after they graduated. Holster and Chowder are sitting on the other side of the table, because they don’t mind sitting in normal chairs.

“You’ll thank me in the long run,” Holster is saying, and the worst thing about it is that Bitty actually believes him. “C’mon, if you don’t want to do it, let me.”

Bitty _knows_ Holster’s right, but he still clutches his phone tighter. “I don’t know. Maybe I should keep talking to him a little while longer? Like -- two weeks.”

Ransom shifts against him. “You think that’s a good idea, Bits? It seems like it’s upsetting you.”

“I could….” Bitty doesn’t know what he could actually do to help Kent, especially since he’s still not interested in being Kent’s friend in real life. “I could try to encourage him to come out to more people? He seems really isolated; that can’t be healthy.”

“No,” Holster agrees, “it’s probably not. But he’s an adult, and it’s not your job to make his life better. Especially when he’s not doing anything to make _your_ life better.” Holster gives Bitty a measuring look. “And especially when we’ve talked about this before. You’re done messing with guys who wear you out and drain your energy, right?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Bitty says, “but this isn’t the same thing. He doesn’t know it’s me, and we’re not dating or anything. I’m just… helping him out. From a distance.”

“So it’s like your normal thing on steroids,” Ransom comments. “You do stuff for him and he does nothing for you, and this time he literally _can’t_ do anything for you, even if he wanted to. Bits. Not healthy.”

Chowder is just eating and minding his own business. Bitty has a feeling that Chowder’s actually on his side, so he kind of wishes Chowder would speak up.

Chowder takes a sip of his drink and raises his eyebrows at Bitty.

“I’ve got it under control,” Bitty mutters. He thinks he might be telling the truth. Maybe.

Holster holds out his open palm. “If you want me to do it, I can. Block him, delete your Tinder, whatever you want. Okay?”

Bitty squirms a little. “I can just stop talking to him on my own. I don’t need to do any of that.”

Holster gives him a disbelieving look.

“I do actually have willpower!” Bitty protests, a little offended.

“We know you do,” Ransom soothes, in a tone that suggests he doesn’t believe Bitty either. “But we don’t think you actually want to stop talking to Kent right now. You can’t willpower your way into doing something you don’t want to do, right?”

Chowder speaks up for the first time. “Sure you can. That’s the point of willpower, right?”

“Okay!” Bitty cries. “You got me. I’m gonna keep talking to him, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. Let’s all just admit that.”

“I admit it,” Chowder says. He smiles at Bitty behind his straw.

Holster and Ransom exchange a worried look. “We don’t want to force you to stop talking to him,” Ransom says, and Holster scoffs. “Well, I don’t. But -- can you just be careful, Bits? Don’t give him too much.”

“Sure,” Bitty says. He looks down at his feet under the table. “You really don’t have to worry. I don’t even like him.”

Ransom scans Bitty’s face. “I think that just makes me worry more.”

  


  


  


The next morning, Bitty decides to bring in some of his leftover apple donuts to work. He has too many to eat himself before they go stale, and it always makes him feel good to share his baking with other people -- especially when they haven’t had it before, and their awed enjoyment can go straight to his self-esteem.

He’s a simple man with simple pleasures. 

But as Bitty’s stepping out of his car, he realizes -- a bit belatedly -- that this could be a mistake. He doesn’t know if Kent is at all suspicious of the way things worked out (or didn’t work out) on Tinder, but if he’s looking for clues, it might be a bad idea to let him know that the Eric he works with loves to bake. He might connect that to the Eric on Tinder who likes to bake.

Or maybe he won’t. Maybe he doesn’t even think about it. Bitty isn’t sure.

It’s a tough tug-of-war between his desire to be complimented on his baked goods and his desire to make sure his online identity remains anonymous, but protecting his secret wins out in the end. 

Bitty doesn’t have to be happy about it, though.

“Ooh, what do you got there?” that Nathan guy asks when Bitty walks in. 

“Just some apple donuts my mom made,” Bitty says, and the lie physically hurts. “No way I can eat them all myself, so I figured y’all might enjoy ‘em.” 

Larissa smiles at him, and he can feel himself flushing. She always knows when he’s lying, and he has no idea how she does it. 

Then Kent and Will come around the corner, and Bitty tries to not freak out. 

It’s just -- this is the first time he’s seen Kent in person since he started messaging him again. 

It’s fine. 

“Oh, thank god,” Will says, and grabs one donut in each hand before going back to his desk.

Kent looks over the donuts like he’s not sure about them. “Who brought these in?” he asks, glancing back. 

“Um,” Bitty says, “I did?”

Kent looks at Bitty. “Cool. You make them or buy them?”

“They’re not store-bought,” Bitty says, because the lie tastes terrible and he needs to put it off, at least for a second. “My mom made them. Try ‘em, they’re good.”

Kent pulls napkins and paper plates out of the cabinet near the counter Bitty had set the donuts on, and Bitty’s a little embarrassed he forgot to do that. He watches as Kent picks up one donut, taking a small bite and chewing thoughtfully.

Too thoughtfully. Like he’s a judge on Chopped, or something. 

He’s totally messing with Bitty.

“It’s great,” Kent says, after he swallows. “Great consistency. Great flavor. Uh -- moist.”

“Ew,” Larissa hisses. 

Bitty can’t help it -- he cackles. “Glad you like it,” he says once he’s caught his breath. “Also, never say that word again.”

Kent is grinning bigger than Bitty’s ever seen him, which isn’t saying much. He’s probably just surprised Bitty isn’t being chilly with him today. “Well, thanks,” he says. He grabs another donut to take with him to his office. “I’m glad your mom made them. Cool of you to bring them in. They’re, uh, good.”

Bitty makes an affirmative noise and watches Kent leave their area. He avoids Larissa’s eyes, even though he knows it’s pointless.

“You’re acting funny today,” she says as Bitty finds his desk, and he pretends not to hear her.

  


  


  


Bitty spends a couple hours answering emails and phone calls from prospective companies, then takes an extra-long bathroom break. He loves his job, but it’s mentally draining to be ‘on’ all day, even if he is a natural extrovert.

When he finally makes his way back to his desk, he sees Derek and Larissa whispering together, looking more worried than conspiratory, which isn’t a good sign.

“What’s up?” he asks, stopping by Derek’s desk instead of sitting in his chair. “What’s wrong?”

Larissa glances at Derek, placing a hand on his forearm to stop him from answering. “It might be nothing,” she says, calm and even. Too calm -- like she’s putting it on to keep Bitty from freaking out. “Derek just directed a call from Bandin to Kent. He wasn’t sure what it was about.”

“Fourth call today,” Derek adds, and Larissa smacks his arm. “Sorry.”

Bitty feels his stomach clenching up. Bandin is his favorite company they partner with, and everyone knows it. Probably to an unprofessional degree, but whatever -- the company, which specializes in pens and mechanical pencils, is always a joy to work with, and they donate a surprisingly large portion of their annual sales to local high-need public school districts.

Four calls to Kent in one day almost definitely means the company is going through significant financial stress. Which means they could be let go soon.

“It’s being handled,” Larissa says, moving forward to nudge Bitty’s shoulder with her own. “Nothing we can do now. You make any progress with that baby clothes company today?”

Bitty smiles, even if it’s a little forced. He knows Larissa is practically chomping at the bit to get a deal struck with that company; creating graphics for baby clothes is her _dream_. “Getting there. Any donuts left?”

“No,” Will says, speaking up for the first time. He’s still at his desk, hunched over his computer. “Derek was stuffing his face earlier. He ate all of them.”

Bitty finds his chair and tries to focus. Tries not to wring his hands; tries not to think too hard about what’s been happening on those phone calls. “Derek, didn’t you ever learn how to share?”

“He’s an only child,” Will says, and his tone is so judgmental that Bitty lets out a snort without thinking about it.

“I didn’t eat _all_ of them!” Derek hisses, pouting and crossing his arms. “I’m not that terrible.”

“There were three left,” Larissa points out, “and then you ate them all. That’s pretty terrible.”

Bitty smiles and leans back in his desk, but he can’t quite put the phone calls out of his head.

  


  


  


**Wayne:** im going to try baking bc of you, any ideas??

 **Eric:** baking experience?

 **Wayne:** those cookies that break off into squares and you just put them on a baking sheet for 15 min

 **Eric:** WAYNE

 **Eric:** you poor thing

 **Eric:** cookies are actually a pretty good place to start, if you want to try baking from scratch. if you like chocolate chip, that’s hard to get wrong.

 **Wayne:** haha thanks

 **Wayne:** and actually my real name isnt wayne….. that was kinda part of the secret agent/closeted dl thing?? my real names kent 

**Eric:** ok. thank you for telling me. 

**Wayne:** would it be cool to just start texting instead of talking here? i know it’s a bad idea to share your # with a stranger but now that you moved its not a big deal right?

 **Eric:** hmm. i’d still prefer not to. but it would be great if we could talk on smiley. it’s a good app to chat without sharing numbers. 

**Wayne:** cool sounds good

  


  


  


The next day, when Bitty can’t take it anymore, he emails his contact at Bandin, as professionally as he knows how, to ask what the situation is and if there’s anything he can do to help things run more smoothly.

 _Thank you_ , the follow-up email reads forty-five minutes later, _it’s been a tough month over here. We’re getting things back on track, have been in communication with Kent from your financing dept. Always appreciate how much you & your people care. It’s still rocky but K is working with us. I’d like to say it’s all in the clear now but that’s not quite the case yet -- not much you can do, but please know your dedication is noticed and we value working with you immensely. Thanks, R.G._

Bitty keeps finding himself just _happening_ to walk past Kent’s office. Just in case. Kent’s on the phone a few times, but Bitty isn’t desperate enough to eavesdrop outside the door, and he can’t figure out if Kent’s talking to a Bandin representative or not.

It’s more than a little disconcerting when Rachel, the big boss, pulls him into her office an hour before his work day’s set to end, and when Kent’s already waiting in the office when Bitty gets there.

He thinks _account terminated_ and _fired_ and _promoted?_ all at the same time, but he manages to sit down without letting his fear show.

“Thanks for stopping in, Eric,” Rachel says, as though she didn’t grab him from his desk herself.

He smiles thinly. “Of course.” He tries not to fidget, even though it’s killing him to not know what this is about. Kent seems relaxed, but he always seems relaxed; Bitty is starting to grasp that that’s just one more facet of Kent’s fake workplace facade, but he sells it well. 

“We actually wanted to check in about Bandin,” Kent says, which really just serves as a reminder to Bitty that Kent has serious seniority over him -- Rachel might be everyone’s boss, but Kent still has the authority to get the conversation started. “Ryan Greene in their office mentioned that he spoke with you, right?” 

This feels like a trap, but it’s already in motion. Bitty looks at Rachel, whose face is blank and neutral. “Yes. He didn’t share any specific details -- but yes, we briefly touched base earlier today.” 

Rachel nods. “I appreciate that. And this isn’t a big deal or something you need to worry about, but in the future, remember that all communication with our partner companies needs to be approved ahead of time, alright? I know this specific company is a favorite of yours, but it’s still important to follow protocols all the time, even when you’re more personally involved. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Bitty says immediately. He tries not to visibly curl in on himself, because now that he has a grown-up job he needs to act like a mature adult, but he already knows he’s going to cry about this on the drive home. 

He kind of forgot about that rule. So he’s going to cry about being reprimanded, and about being an incompetent, bad employee. 

“Alright,” Rachel says. “It’s a possibility that, in order to protect against any potential claims of favoritism or worse, I could find someone else to head up communications with that particular company. It could be overkill, but you know how I like to be a stickler. Just to be safe.”

Bitty nods, and now he knows his shoulders are curling in despite his best efforts. He was so stupid to send that email; it was pointless anyway, and he _loves_ working with this particular company. “Okay.” 

“I know that Ryan really values his partnership with Eric,” Kent says, matter-of-fact, “and it’s a big part of why Bandin is so loyal to us. If their financial mess can get straightened out, and I think it will, I think keeping Eric on the account would be a good idea.” Kent scratches at his hair, like he isn’t blowing Bitty’s mind right now. “I can show you the emails from earlier today if you want to verify, but nothing unprofessional was shared from either side. If you think it’s a good idea, Rachel, I can get the account transfer started right away, but my two cents is that Eric’s a good fit for Bandin and a big part of why they trust us and want to continue working with us.”

Rachel nods, and gives Bitty what’s probably a pitying smile. “Sounds like a plan. Like I said, I’m aware moving Eric to another account could be overkill. Kent, if you’ll get those emails pulled up in your office, I’ll stop by as soon as I can.” She leans forward, meets Bitty’s eyes. “You don’t need to feel bad about any of this, Eric. I know you care about the company. I just need to know you can work within our protocols going forward, even if they can be a bit restrictive here and there. Okay?”

“Yes,” Bitty says, and he’s so relieved that his voice is weak. “That won’t be a problem.”

“Well, thank you for that, and thank you for dropping everything to meet with us,” Rachel says smoothly, and that’s his cue to leave. Bitty stammers out another thank you, a few goodbyes, and he darts back to his desk as soon as he’s out of their sightline.

 _I think Kent Parson just saved my ass_ , he wants to tell Larissa, but it feels almost personal. He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

 _I’m suddenly remembering how nice his abs are,_ he could say as well, and he doesn’t know how to feel about that either.

  


  


  


**Bitty** 8:15 pm  
i have. bad news.

 **Chowder** 8:15 pm  
this is gonna be good

 **Bitty** 8:16 pm  
wtf chow, you’re supposed to be the nice one

 **Bitty** 8:16 pm  
anyway i need you all to hear my bad news

 **Bitty** 8:18 pm  
AHEM

 **Ransom** 8:18 pm  
ok bro. H is with me, we’re waiting so expectantly for your bad news :( :(

 **Bitty** 8:19 pm  
i have examined my heart  & the truth is….. i don’t hate k*nt p*rson anymore

 **Chowder** 8:20 pm  
woah when you star out the name like that i have no idea who you’re talking about

 **Bitty** 8:20 pm  
you’re kidding right??

 **Chowder** 8:20 pm  
WOW you actually thought i might be that dumb….. thanx

 **Chowder** 8:21 pm  
but really whats the point of the stars? is he like beetlejuice??

 **Ransom** 8:22 pm  
holtzy wants me to tell you that you’re letting him, your family, and yourself down

 **Bitty** 8:22 pm  
tell holster to talk to me himself

 **Bitty** 8:22 pm  
like a man

 **Chowder** 8:22 pm  
i mean i personally am happy you don’t have hate in your heart anymore. what changed?

 **Holster** 8:23 pm  
THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE

 **Bitty** 8:23 pm  
idk he hasn’t been too bad lately. probs because i’ve stopped giving him my southern death glare. it’s hard to tell but i think he was actually….. nice today??

 **Bitty** 8:24 pm  
plus i kinda have to like him now that im talking to him more online. and his fakeness makes me more sad than annoyed now. 

**Holster** 8:24 pm  
I PROMISE that you don’t have to like him. You really don’t.

 **Chowder** 8:24 pm  
well i support him. i hope being secret-friends with you helps him accept himself or whatever

 **Bitty** 8:24 pm  
thanks 

**Ransom** 8:25 pm  
luv you token straight

 **Chowder** 8:25 pm  
<3 <3 <3

  


  


  


On Saturday, Bitty’s almost late for his coffee date with Derek when he gets wrapped up in a conversation with Kent. 

Which is a weird way to think about it, since Kent doesn’t know he’s having a conversation with Bitty. 

Which makes Bitty wonder, for the millionth time, if the potential good he’s doing Kent outweighs the dishonesty. If he’s being nice, or if he’s being a terrible person. 

So he rushes into this hipstery organic coffee shop at exactly 9:45, and is honestly shocked to see that Derek’s already there. Considering that Derek’s the opposite of a morning person, and he’s not getting paid to be here, Bitty had kind of assumed he’d have to wait for Derek. 

But Derek’s wearing a red short-sleeved shirt that he looks criminally good in, plus a pair of truly atrocious joggers, and Bitty has no choice but to roll his eyes fondly as he falls into the chair across from Derek. 

“Morning,” Derek says, cheerful as can be. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” Bitty smiles. He promised he’d meet up with Derek in order to read over the second draft of his novel, and is a little uncertain about what exactly this will entail. Derek had at least promised that, since the book will be aimed at middle school kids, it’s not overly long. 

Derek turns his laptop around so it’s facing Bitty. “Whenever you feel like starting, you can make any notes you want. I have the original saved on a different doc. Oh, hey, want me to buy you a drink? Since you’re the one doing me a huge favor.” 

Bitty says yes and lets Derek order him whatever he thinks Bitty will like. Once Derek’s safely in line, Bitty pulls out his phone, finishes his conversation with Kent -- this one about their favorite members of Fifth Harmony, Bitty’s being Normani and Kent’s being Camila because he can’t do even one simple thing right and she’s not even _in_ Fifth Harmony anymore, what is Kent _thinking_ \-- and puts his phone away. He promises himself he won’t touch it for the next hour at the very least.

While Bitty reads and makes notes here and there, Derek alternates between reading a paperback and messing around on his tablet. The tables on either side of them cycle between new customers and lulls of emptiness, and Bitty doesn’t notice he’s hungry until Derek’s laughing at the sound of his stomach growling.

“Want a bagel or something?” Derek asks, kicking Bitty lightly under the table. “You should take a break, anyway.”

“I could do with a bagel,” Bitty admits, “but I want to keep reading. This is so _good_ , I need to know what happens.”

Derek beams a little, and then he gets up to buy Bitty what ends up being another cup of coffee, a bagel with strawberry cream cheese, and a freshly-baked sugar cookie. “Okay, put it down for, like, ten minutes,” Derek says, laughing when he sees that Bitty’s still reading when he gets back. “I want you at full mental energy when you’re giving me critiques.”

“The only thing I’m critiquing is the way you’re getting between me and the ending right now,” Bitty grumbles, but he accepts lunch gratefully. “Do you already have a plan set up for getting this published? ‘Cause it’s amazing.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some connections,” Derek says, because of course he does. “I just gotta make it perfect first.”

“It’s already pretty darn good,” Bitty says softly, then feels his face getting red when Derek laughs at him for sounding like a total hick. “Darn tootin’ good,” he adds for good measure, sticking his tongue out.

Derek smirks. “If I ever find a real job, I’m gonna miss you, Eric.”

“You can call me Bitty if you want,” Bitty offers. “Outside of work, all my friends do. And -- are you leaving?” The thought is a little painful, but he tries to mask it with a smile. “We’re not exciting enough for you, huh?”

“Aw, Bitty, you’re just exciting enough,” Derek promises. “No, I don’t know. There are a lot of factors, including if this little beast ever gets published,” he says, nodding at the laptop. “But I don’t want to be working as a secretary. Administrative assistant, whatever. For the rest of my life. I’d probably do, like, writing in a marketing department or something. I’m still trying to figure out what my employable interests even are, you know?”

“Yeah,” Bitty says. He knows he’s lucky to have a well-paying job that he actually enjoys. “It’s tough.”

Derek steals a bite of Bitty’s cookie. “Yeah, like, I’m not actually applying anywhere right now, but I opened up my old resume and cover letter last week and cried dramatically for awhile. Revising that shit isn’t fun, let me tell you.”

And, yeah. Bitty is _really_ lucky he loves his job, because even if he hated it, he’d probably stick it out as long as possible just to avoid the process of reapplying and interviewing at other places. “I don’t even want to imagine,” he says, shuddering.

“Yeah, I got Kent to help me edit my resume, which probably saved my life, but it’s hard to actually make any huge changes when I still don’t know for sure what jobs I’d be looking at.” Derek stares longingly at Bitty’s remaining food, then glances back at the line. “I think I’m hungry for lunch too, actually. Ready to keep reading?”

No, not at the moment. He would really prefer to hear more about Kent helping with Derek’s resume, as silly as that is. “Yeah,” he says slowly, resting his hand on the touchpad so the laptop wakes up again. “But. Actually. You said Kent helped with your resume? Like, from the office?”

“Yep,” Derek says. “I mean, he double-majored in accounting and business; he’s pretty much the best person you could ask for help with that stuff. I felt like a dumbass when I saw how much better my resume was after he was through with it.”

“Right, that makes sense,” Bitty says. He tightens his fingers around the edge of the laptop. “I just -- I didn’t know you two were friends? It didn’t always seem like you were.” He stops, blushes more. “Sometimes he’s, um, rude to you? At work. I don’t know.”

Derek shrugs. “He’s okay. He’s easier to talk to outside of work, I guess. He’s very Katy Perry’s Hot N Cold, like, as a person. Just depends on the conversation.”

Bitty has to laugh at that. He has a feeling Derek would have fewer uncomfortable conversations with Kent if he stopped trying to set Kent up with various women he knows, but it’s not like Bitty can clue Derek in on that one. “Well. He’s been a little better lately, so maybe I see what you mean.”

“We’re not exactly friends,” Derek says, waving his hand vaguely, “but he’s a good guy, like, three-quarters of the time, and he doesn’t mind helping out with boring shit, so I’m a fan. Want another cookie?”

“No,” Bitty says. He wishes they could talk about Kent more, but that would probably seem weird to Derek. “You go. I want to finish your story.”

“Cool,” Derek says. “Well, you’re my first fan, Eric. Bitty.”

Bitty waves him off and focuses on the story.

  


  


  


**Eric:**  
how’s your weekend going? 

**Kent:**  
it was kinda rough at first, like uhh my sister accidentally outed me to some extended family this morning so, oops. but its better now.

 **Eric:**  
oh my god, that’s awful. did it go okay though? i guess, since it’s better now?

 **Kent:**  
eh. it was fine with most of them, maybe not so much with my one uncle who just sucks in general, but thats what i expected. nah im better now because i went to my calm-down spot in the city  & its so beautiful 

**Kent:**  
and bc im planning to spend the rest of the weekend not interacting with anyone but my cat lol

 **Eric:**  
well, i’m glad it went well with most of them. sorry about your uncle, i know the feeling. 

**Eric:**  
where’s your calm-down spot? and why don’t i have one, that sounds heavenly.

 **Kent:**  
yeah its pretty much heaven on earth for me so your not wrong. idk if you ever went to/heard of franklin park? by roxbury and dorchester. i go to this pond there if i need some space or whatever.

 **Eric:**  
honestly, i don’t know much about boston. or directions in general. but it looks lovely on google. what exactly are you upset about today? i understand it’s probably related to your extended family, but do you want to talk about it?

 **Kent:**  
haha you dont need to worry about it, i can pour out my sorrows to kit later

 **Kent:**  
shit thats my cat’s name. don’t laugh at me for naming her after myself i did it to be funny but now its embarrassing every time i tell someone new. which is why i usually dont tell people until they actually meet her.

 **Eric:**  
aww i think it’s sweet. and you don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to, i just want you to know i’m available to listen if you need me. 

**Kent:**  
thanks eric. idk i guess i just had gotten used to only my mom, sis, and exes knowing, and i got used to believing thats the only people who ever need to know? which sucks bc i actually would like to be out. probably. but theres a difference between wanting to be done keeping it a secret and actually being brave enough to tell people, and i guess i kindof freaked out when caroline said it so easily when i never could.

 **Kent:**  
also just to be clear, it was a total accident and she’s the best sister ever. would never do that on purpose.

 **Eric:**  
well, now that she did tell them, and the number of people who know about you has increased so dramatically, how do you really feel? right now?

 **Kent:**  
still scared, but also sort of embarrassed that i made such a big deal about it. a little relieved, like i can breathe easier or something. i mean im used to being closeted pretty much 98% of the time but its sort of exhausting, and now i feel like i can relax with a key group of people i had always been tense around. 

**Kent:**  
still wish they found out when i decided it was time for them to find out, but lets be real i would have taken another 5 yrs to tell them because its too hard

 **Eric:**  
that is really hard. i came out on my own to almost everyone, but there were a few people who found out before i was ready, and it’s a scary feeling. i wonder if you might be more ready than you think you are, though? if this just happened today and you’re already feeling relieved and free, i’ve found that’s a good sign that keeping it a secret is starting to hurt you more than protect you.

 **Eric:**  
it definitely depends on the people in your life, but i think you’re braver than you’re giving yourself credit for. i haven’t had the same experience as you, i came out to all my friends right away in college and to my family a few years later, but i do have some friends who were in a similar situation to you, and i remember them all telling me almost the exact same thing -- you can stay in as long as you like, but during that time you’re not growing emotionally, or loving, or even letting yourself accept love, because there’s a wall between you and the rest of the world, even if you’re the only one who knows about it.

 **Eric:**  
i hope that, now that wall’s gone between you and your family, you can feel a big difference in a positive way when you spend time with them. you deserve to stay in as long as you want to and to feel safe, so i’m definitely not trying to say you need to come out to more people right now, but i think you also deserve to see more people in your life accept you and care about you in a realer way. 

**Eric:**  
am i being too pushy or preachy, please stop me.

 **Kent:**  
no, you’re saying things that make a lot of sense  & i feel like a great mix of inspired and terrified. 

**Kent:**  
i’m going to start driving home soon so i won’t be able to talk, but i really appreciate it. i want to know how you’re doing too, it must be hard to move to a huge city by yourself. 

**Eric:**  
thanks, kent. i’ll talk to you later, okay?

 **Kent:**  
yeah thank you so much for being there, i really do appreciate it

 **Eric:**  
drive safe :)

  


  


  


On Monday, Bitty steers clear of Kent as much as he can. It’s not too difficult, considering Kent works on the opposite side of the office area, but he does like to stop by the underlings’ corner every once in awhile, probably to check that they’re actually getting work done. Or maybe he just likes the terrible rock music Will plays from his computer every once in awhile; Bitty doesn’t know. 

When Kent finally does make an appearance, Bitty doesn’t even notice him at first. He’s too busy _educating_ Will on the human side of the accounts they work with, since Will generally focuses on the technological problems at hand to the exclusion of everything else. “Any company can have a good contact rep,” Bitty’s saying; “that doesn’t mean the company itself is any better than average. You have to look at the benefits they offer, and look for ways they give back to the community. Like, with Bandin? Their employees get better benefits than _we_ do, and a bunch of their profits go to schools in the area. They don’t just make our company better, they make Boston better.”

“Uh,” Will says. “Do any companies really make Boston better?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Larissa chimes in, and Bitty narrows his eyes at her. Just because she’s waging a personal war against capitalism doesn’t mean she gets to diss Bandin; that’s a step too far. “Okay, Bitty,” Larissa adds, laughing and using his personal nickname in the office for what’s probably the first time ever, “there’s _one_ good company. One.”

Bitty’s pretty sure she’s just humoring him, but he’ll take it for now. “They don’t just donate to look good for the media, either,” he says. “They try to avoid any press on it, and they donate lots of supplies to underfunded districts throughout the school year, and they _really_ care about the community, y’know?”

He can see Larissa looking over to the side, a dangerous smirk on her face, and he turns to see Kent -- holding a mini-cooler and smiling. “Oh,” Kent says, when he sees everyone looking at him, “I was checking if you wanted some lemonade? Rachel’s sister-in-law donated it. It’s organic.”

“Well, if it’s organic,” Will says, and Derek laughs. 

“Sure, I’ll have one,” Bitty says, and Kent holds the cooler out for him. “Ooh, these cans are nice. Larissa, look at this.”

While Larissa examines the art design on the lemonade can, Bitty shifts a little closer to Kent. “You think my obsession with Bandin is funny, huh?” he asks, smiling gently and enjoying the way Kent looks flustered under the uncharacteristic warmth.

“They are a good company,” Kent finally says. “You’re right; they’re better than most.”

Bitty smiles. “Which is why I appreciate that I was allowed to continue handling their account.” He takes another can of lemonade, since Larissa’s still engrossed in the one he originally grabbed. 

Kent smiles back, and Bitty’s gratified to see that Kent is visibly charmed -- Bitty likes being liked. “You’re good with them,” he says, and now Bitty can feel himself being charmed, so he nods and turns back to continue talking with Will. 

“Can I get one of those?” Will says, leaning forward to get a good look in the cooler. Bitty tries not to turn around to look at Kent again.

“As long as you agree with Eric,” Kent says cheerfully, “that Bandin’s a great company. The best.”

Will rolls his eyes, but he plays along. “I’ve never loved a company like I love Bandin.”

“Same,” Derek yells. 

Kent tosses each of them a can, smiles at Bitty once more, and turns to go back to his office. 

“Hmm,” Larissa says. 

Bitty knows it looks weird, how he’s interacting with Kent. But it makes sense to him, even if he can’t explain it to anyone else. He smiles at Larissa before getting back to work.

  


  


  


**Kent:**  
don’t think i forgot that we’re gonna talk about how you’re doing. you helped me out when i was stressed about my family thing, let me help you out too.

 **Eric:**  
now what makes you think i have any problems i’d need help with?

 **Kent:**  
mmm nothing. i just don’t want to take up your time without doing something for you too

 **Eric:**  
well, the only problem i have right now is that i’m a little bored, and you’re already helping with that :)

 **Kent:**  
wow smooth

 **Eric:**  
oh hush. 

**Eric:**  
ok here’s a question -- i’m having friends over in a bit, to drink and play games. like card/board games. the PROBLEM i’m having is that i can’t pick a game! any good suggestions? 

**Kent:**  
well, that depends on a lot of factors. what do you have? do your friends like strategy or luck? some games are about humor, or math, or words, or bullshitting. 

**Kent:**  
i need to spreadsheet this

 **Eric:**  
i can’t believe you’re being a nerd about board games adk;dafdk

 **Kent:**  
wow i can’t believe YOU’RE making fun of me smh

 **Eric:**  
nooo, i think it’s cute :)

 **Eric:**  
and i believe we’ve covered my feelings about math before, but i refuse to play math or numbers games. humor games are probably best for this bunch.

 **Kent:**  
can’t go wrong with cards against humanity

 **Kent:**  
well. actually that can go very wrong depending on your friend group, but you get what im saying. 

**Eric:**  
no, they’re cool. thanks, k.

 **Kent:**  
im sorry are you nicknaming me now??

 **Eric:**  
i just might be

 **Kent:**  
well i do have to go, i have to make dinner etc. but nice talking as always.

 **Eric:**  
you haven’t eaten yet???? it’s 8!!

 **Kent:**  
lol i only got home forty minutes ago, and i hate cooking. putting it off until im too starving to resist. 

**Eric:**  
that is so sad, k.

 **Kent:**  
….wow 

**Eric:**  
you’ll get used to it

 **Eric:**  
:)

  


  


  


When Bitty gets the reminder email about Larissa’s upcoming art showcase, he feels like a terrible friend for totally forgetting about it.

He decides that the best way to compensate for his own negligence is to make sure everyone else shows up. It’s the least he can do for Larissa -- after all, her friendship keeps him feeling sane when he’s surrounded by Will and Derek’s weird bickering and, increasingly, Kent’s… whole existence. 

Bitty doesn’t lay off at all the whole time he’s at work -- he harrasses Will for half an hour, promising him ridiculously good catering even though he has no idea if the showcase will even provide food. Will clearly sees right through him, but he eventually cracks when Bitty reminds him how much Larissa (and Bitty himself, but that’s implied) helped Will settle in when he first started at the office. 

The long speech he had planned to convince Derek ends up being unnecessary, as it turns out that Derek only has to hear “Larissa” and “art show” to make a verbal commitment. 

“I got them both on board,” Bitty informs Larissa later, and she salutes him. 

He doesn’t think Larissa would really want or appreciate the attendance of some of the other people in the office, since she doesn’t talk to them much, but he does his best to extend an invitation to the millennials, at least. He doesn’t push them, but he at least asks.

Bitty mentions the showcase to Kent -- several times. First when they find themselves in the elevator at the same time and Bitty is searching for something to say. Then when Bitty’s wandering past Kent’s office area at the same time that Kent is coming back with a cup of coffee, and Bitty points at him and says, “Don’t forget to make an appearance at Larissa’s art show tonight! We’ll be keeping an eye out for you,” and Kent laughs and says, “I’m coming; I haven’t changed my mind.”

Right before Bitty is clocking out -- Larissa got to leave half an hour early to make sure everything’s set up -- he sees Kent coming out of Rachel’s office. “Hey, you’re not skipping out on the showcase, are you?” he calls, and it’s one of those moments where he knows he’s making a fool of himself, but he just wants to say _something_ to Kent. 

It’s kind of fun, actually, being on friendlier terms. He likes it.

“What!” Kent says, laughing and looking pleasantly confused. “You think I’m lying? I said I’d be there!”

“You’d better be,” Bitty threatens, with a teasing smile. Kent grins back at him, and then Bitty decides to leave before he does anything _really_ stupid. 

It’s all for Larissa, anyway. He’s personally responsible for nine different people promising to show up, and that’s not too shabby.

  


  


  


Unfortunately, that number soon increases to twelve. 

“You _can’t_ come,” Bitty says again, even though he’s pretty sure this trainwreck has already left the station. “Guys. You can’t.”

Chowder is already worrying in front of the mirror. “Should I wear a tie? Will it be rude if I wear this?”

“Nah, you look great,” Ransom says. “Just tuck your shirt in.”

Bitty surveys his three friends, feeling a mix of distress and fondness. “Holster, you need to change. If you’re going. Which you’re not. But you can’t wear sweatpants; be serious.”

“I worked from home today, it’s not my fault.” But Holster grabs Ransom by the hand and adds, “Come on, babe, we gotta go home and change,” so he at least takes it to heart.

Bitty watches in mild horror as Ransom and Holster put their shoes on and grab their keys. “I’m serious, this is a bad idea.”

“Why?” Chowder asks from the bathroom, and bless him, he sounds genuinely confused.

“Because I might kind of want to keep my personal life and work life separate on normal occasions,” Bitty says, “but this is, like, the apocalypse! I told y’all about Kent being gay, I told you about my secret conversations with him that even _he_ doesn’t know about! And not one person out of the three of you has even the tiniest bit of subtlety in your entire body!” Bitty throws himself onto his comfy chair with a dramatic huff.

Holster and Ransom exchange a glance. “Dude,” Ransom says, “we’ll pretend we’ve never heard you mention any of them apart from, like, their names. We aren’t _monsters_.”

“Is it okay if I make it really obvious I hate Kent, even if I’m pretending I don’t know anything about him?” Holster tries.

“ _No._ ”

Holster glares as Ransom drags him out the door.

  


  


  


Bitty arrives at Larissa’s showcase with Chowder in the passenger seat of his car, and the sobering knowledge that Holster and Ransom are just a few minutes behind them. “Behave,” he tells Chowder sternly, even though he knows the real problem is a pair of hockey-playing boyfriends driving a rusty Toyota Camry toward the art show.

He fixes Chowder’s hair, says a little prayer, and starts looking for Larissa.

The art showcase is on the second floor of the building, and it appears to be organized by monkeys. That’s the only explanation for why it takes him ten minutes to find Larissa, and Bitty tightens his jaw when he sees Ransom and Holster already there when he finally finds the right exhibit. 

“This just, uh,” Holster is saying, gazing up at a painting that has quite a lot of nipple in it, “really speaks to the human condition. Existentialism.”

“Supes nihilist,” Ransom adds. “Playing with… color. And shapes.”

“Bitty,” Chowder hisses in distress, “go yell at them. I’m not the bad one.”

Bitty just sighs. “This is nothing. The only thing I’m worried about is what’ll happen when they meet -- Kent! Hi.”

Kent cleans up nice, Bitty thinks, and then he blushes and shoves Chowder forward. “This is my friend Chris. The doofuses up there are mine, too. Chris, this is Kent. I work with him.”

“Oh,” Chowder says slowly. He is very clearly trying to act natural, but failing so hard that it takes every inch of Bitty’s willpower not to facepalm. “Nice to meet you, Kent.”

“Introductions?” Ransom darts over to join them, Holster right behind him. “I’m Justin, this is Adam. And you are?”

Kent sticks his hand out to shake with Ransom. He does look very nice in his grey button-up with the sleeves rolled up just enough. “Kent Parson. I work with your friend Eric.”

“Like they said,” Bitty cuts in nervously, “that’s Justin, and _that_ ,” he says, pointing Holster out with a slightly aggressive index finger, “is Adam. Adam’s actually getting over a cold, so he probably won’t be talking much tonight.”

“I got better,” Holster says. He smiles in what Bitty plainly sees to be evil glee. 

Bitty smiles back at him, teeth clenched together in what’s probably more of a grimace. “Adam, did you meet Larissa? This is all her art. Let’s be polite and say hello.”

Holster grimaces back, but he allows himself to be escorted over to where Larissa is presiding over the exhibit; Ransom and Chowder follow, thank god. “Hey, Larissa,” he says once he’s standing close enough that he doesn’t have to raise his voice. “This is incredible.”

“Bitty!” Larissa cries, clasping her hands together and looking at him more earnestly than he’s ever seen her look at anyone. “ _You’re_ incredible. I can’t believe so many people from work showed up. It’s all you; I can’t believe it.” 

“No, it’s not all me, that’s….” Bitty glances around. Everyone who promised to show up is here, which is _technically_ because of his tenacity at the office today, but that doesn’t mean it’s really all on him. “They’re here ‘cause they want to support you, Larissa.”

“The food’s good,” Will says, appearing next to Bitty with a small plastic plate covered with fancy hors d'oeuvres. “You were right, Eric.”

Bitty immediately needs to know where exactly the food is being distributed, and by the time he comes back with his own plate, Derek and Kent have joined the group, along with a handful of people who appear to be Larissa’s art friends. 

It’s somehow unsurprising when Derek naturally falls into conversation with that bunch, and Bitty watches in bemusement as they talk about art in ways that he literally can’t even pretend to follow. When the topic switches to the artistic process itself, Bitty can at least sort of keep up, and he blinks when he hears his own name.

“I work pretty well alone,” Derek is saying, “but it’s always hard for me to bring other people into the creative process. I just want to work, work, work, work, work --” there are a few groans -- “and make things perfect by myself without ever letting anyone else in. It’s definitely a challenge to let others see the unfinished product. I think you need to find a few special people, whatever that means for you, but people you feel safe sharing with and who you trust to tell you what they’re really thinking. I’m really lucky that Eric can take time out of his weekend to help me out.” 

People are looking at him. “Oh, it was -- it wasn’t a big deal. I liked reading your book.” Bitty really does mean it. “You’re an amazing writer.”

“I need an Eric,” one of Larissa’s art friends says, laughing.

Then Kent asks Larissa to explain some of her paintings, which changes the momentum of the conversation and takes some of the attention off Bitty, which he appreciates. He drifts toward his school friends, and glares when Holster steals food right off his plate. “I need an Eric,” Holster imitates in a whisper, and Bitty elbows him. 

Holster drapes a long arm over Bitty as they listen to Larissa describe what Ransom and Holster have quaintly termed “the titty painting.” Something about eroticism, and the male gaze, and a desexualized form, and cycling back to lesbians? Bitty doesn’t really get it. 

“Woah,” Derek says appreciatively. “Chill.” 

Apparently _he_ gets it.

Kent doesn’t seem to get it either. He looks back and forth between Larissa and Derek. “Sorry, what? How is it the male gaze but also about lesbians?”

“It’s pretty simple,” one of the art friends says. Bitty thinks her tone is a little too snide; he decides he doesn’t like her. “Let me guess -- you’re straight, right?”

Kent’s cheeks redden, and Bitty automatically grits his teeth. _Don’t blush if you don’t want them to know,_ he thinks, more out of apprehensive concern than anything, and he barely registers it at first when Kent answers “No.”

The conversation keeps going, with nothing but a quick pause to suggest that any of the art friends sense this is a _moment_ , but Bitty feels frozen in shock. He can see Larissa, Will, and Derek all trying to catch his eye -- because he’s the Resident Office Gay, or at least the only out one here, and they probably want to make excited faces at him. Ransom and Chowder, at least, are pointedly not looking at him, and Holster’s carrying on as always, apart from the way his hand on Bitty’s arm is clenched so tight Bitty’s probably going to have a red mark later.

“Seriously,” Larissa says, when all possible avenues of conversation about her pieces have been explored, “thank you for showing up. Now go look at the other artists’ work, please. Make sure you check out Olivia’s stuff down at the other end, too. She’s probably my favorite one here.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Derek says cheerfully, and he snatches Bitty right out from under Holster’s arm as he walks past. “Bitty,” he hisses in Bitty’s ear as they step away, “I’m freaking out right now. Are you freaking out right now?”

Bitty glances back. Holster and Ransom are staying behind, Chowder is tagging along with the rest of the group, and Kent is peeling off to go to the bathroom. Bitty’s stomach clenches. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Well, I’m still freaking out,” Derek mutters. 

Bitty watches as Kent disappears into the bathroom. “It’ll be fine,” he says, even though his throat is getting tight. “Let’s just look at more art now, okay?”

  


  


  


Bitty drives Chowder back to the apartment, then watches him get into his own car and safely drive away. He goes upstairs and locks the door behind him. He grabs a box of leftover brownies and sets up the pull-out bed, turns on the TV, and eats a couple of brownies.

There’s really no putting it off anymore. He knows he has a notification on Smiley, the app he’s been using to talk with Kent lately, and he has to deal with it.

  


  


  


**Kent:**  
E R I C

 **Kent:**  
not sure if this is a distress call or a demand for congratulations but ANSWER ME

 **Kent:**  
ugh i have to go socialize more, can’t wait anymore. answer me later tho please

  


  


  


Bitty thinks it’s been long enough since the art show -- since Kent _outed_ himself at the art show -- that they can have a nice, calm conversation about it without making Bitty feel terrible for the deception, or for not being able to do more to make Kent feel better. 

Or, maybe, the time has only served to make Kent freak out more. Bitty doesn’t know.

  


  


  


**Eric:**  
hey, sorry! what’s up???

 **Kent:**  
im watching the lion king, how are you?

  


  


  


Really. Is Kent really going to play it this way. Bitty sighs and turns off the TV.

  


  


  


**Eric:**  
i’m fine, but what were you getting so worked up about earlier? you seemed upset. or something. do you want to talk about it?

 **Kent:**  
well i guess. 

**Kent:**  
the problem is that i still dont know HOW to talk about it. like if i should be freaking out or relieved. guide me o gay mentor??

 **Eric:**  
i have NOT earned that title, but go ahead. shoot. 

**Kent:**  
today i just came out to all my coworkers? for no reason? i wasn’t even planning to either.

 **Kent:**  
well i mean i was kind of planning to. in the sense that ive been thinking about what you said about being closeted vs coming out, and i agree that i need to come out EVENTUALLY even if it scares me

 **Kent:**  
i just wasn’t planning for eventually to be today

 **Eric:**  
i’m proud of you! that’s a big step, even if it’s scary. how did they react?

 **Kent:**  
idk they didn’t really get a chance to react, context of the moment blah blah blah. but i mean i know they’ll be fine, theres already a gay guy in the office and i’ve never heard anyone say anything too bad about him. i’m not really worried about anyone being like a stereotypical homophobe, i just don’t like coming out in general.

  


  


  


It is -- indescribably awkward to see himself mentioned. Bitty decides to just skip right over that.

  


  


  


**Eric:**  
do you think you can identify what, specifically, you don’t like about coming out?

 **Kent:**  
if i say it im going to sound like a dick tho

 **Eric:**  
say it anyway. this is about you and what you’re feeling.

 **Kent:**  
i know it’s mostly bc i fit in really well with like the straight masculine world, but basically i associate people knowing im gay with people thinking im a joke. and i know im not the coolest person in the world and not everyone loves me, but i do think that based on the way i live my life nobody thinks of me as a JOKE, which to me would be like the worst feeling.

 **Eric:**  
if you’re being a dick, i must have missed it. everything you’re feeling is normal for us! but it’s also normal to realize after you come out that, while some people are awful and will think of you in bad ways you can’t control, lots of other people will respect you and support you and care about you. i think you’re going to find that’s true.

 **Eric:**  
is the dick thing because you think of other gay people as a joke? since they don’t fit into the straight masculine world like you do? if so yes, that’s a little dickish.

 **Kent:**  
not really. i think i used to be mad at them, bc i was jealous they were out or bc other people thought they were weird and i felt like they were making it harder to come out. which is unfair and dumb OBVIOUSLY. i don’t feel like that anymore tho

 **Eric:**  
that’s really good! the less of that internalized junk you have to deal with when you’re also dealing with coming out, the better.

 **Kent:**  
yeah it just kind of sucks bc like at work, theres another gay guy like i said, and i meant it when i said no one says shit about him, but theres still like an undercurrent. where its obvious that a few people think he’s a joke. and i get that those people will always be around and there’s nothing anyone can really do about that, but it still sucks that today at work they respected me and tomorrow they won’t.

 **Kent:**  
or maybe they will. idk. 

**Eric:**  
but, just to be clear, this is not a disaster? you don’t totally regret coming out?

 **Kent:**  
no, i think its a good thing. i was just putting it off and i was stressing about when/how to do it, it’s probably good that i just got it over with. like im freaking out a little but that would have happened no matter what, it’s good to just get it out of the way. now i dont have to keep stressing about keeping it a secret and stressing about how to come out, at least at work.

 **Eric:**  
so it’s just your friends that you haven’t come out to now?

 **Kent:**  
yeah pretty much

 **Eric:**  
any reason for that? i know that a lot of lgbt people, including myself, choose to come out to our friends first, so this seems a little unusual.

 **Kent:**  
idk they’re all really like jock/bro types and im not sure how it would go over

 **Kent:**  
like ive known them for a really long time, all the way back to elementary school for most of them, and i remember in middle and high school when they went thru the big homophobic macho phase. they don’t really say shit like that anymore, and some of them have said they support it now, but it’s hard to forget and i dont know if they really changed their minds or if theyre just trying to avoid getting called out

  


  


  


Bitty waits for another message, since it seems like Kent is just getting started talking about his friends, but nothing else comes through.

  


  


  


**Eric:**  
i’m sorry if asking about your friends stressed you out! you’ll get there eventually. today was a HUGE day and you don’t need to worry about anything else. i said it already but i’m REALLY proud of you, you made a big step even though you were scared, and that’s amazing.

 **Kent:**  
thanks 

**Kent:**  
ugh and now i have to figure out how im going to act at work tomorrow ughhhh

 **Kent:**  
whatever scratch that. we’ve talked about me and my sad closet problems enough, lol. whats going on with you? there’s gotta be something you’re stressed about.

 **Eric:**  
oh, you’re sweet. i’m fine, though! no complaints :)

 **Kent:**  
if you’ve got nothing big, tell me a pointless insignificant problem, then. to help me destress, i need the distraction.

  


  


  


He is good.

  


  


  


**Eric:**  
ok then. but i see what you’re doing.

 **Eric:**  
i guess this isn’t really a PROBLEM, just a weird feeling, but i feel like everything in my life right now is very repetitive and boring. i don’t get excited about things often anymore, except maybe at work, which is sad in itself. my friends are great, my job is satisfying, my work friends are cool, my family’s great, and i still feel kind of…. i don’t know how to describe it. maybe purposeless? 

**Eric:**  
that’s too dramatic of a word choice. i guess what i’m saying is i used to have a lot of joy, even when nothing in particular was going on in my life, and now everything feels mundane. even though i’m happy pretty frequently, it’s not the same as joy. i remember the difference. 

**Kent:**  
i think a lot of people feel like that in the years right after they graduate, but it definitely counts as a problem. 

**Kent:**  
you listed all these good things you have but nothing about dating. is that because you’re not dating at all, or are you trying to spare my feelings since im a self isolating closet case with dl in his profile??

 **Eric:**  
technically, ex-closet case. 

**Kent:**  
i see you trying to distract me from talking about your problems  & its not going to work. i admire your manipulation skills though.

 **Eric:**  
ok no, i’m not dating. but i don’t know if that would help? i hate dating. i like being in a relationship, but i absolutely hate the beginning stages. that would probably just add to my problems, if anything.

 **Kent:**  
you were all set to go on a date with me though?

 **Eric:**  
i think it helped that we talked so long first. it took away some of the stress and awkwardness that always go with the first few dates.

 **Kent:**  
hmmm. 

**Kent:**  
HMMMM.

 **Kent:**  
i bet i know your problem.

 **Eric:**  
please, enlighten me.

 **Kent:**  
you won’t go on any dates with new york boys because you’re still hung up on ME. understandable. 

**Kent:**  
i should have made you promise not to fall in love with me. like in a nicholas sparks movie.

 **Eric:**  
wow 

**Kent:**  
it was the abs, wasn’t it

 **Eric:**  
no, i think it was the knowledge that you own a mug that says CATFFEINATED on it. after that, what other man could ever compare?

 **Kent:**  
yuk it up wise guy, you almost went on a date with that catffeinated mug

 **Eric:**  
how could i ever forget

 **Eric:**  
actually, i do need to be going to bed soon. but i’m so glad you told me your news, and i KNOW you’ll have a great day tomorrow. give your sweet little cat a cuddle for me, then try to get some sleep so you can kick ass tomorrow.

 **Kent:**  
ok, thanks for talking to me. i really do appreciate it. and i’ll give kit a little kiss for you. and i’ll try not to stare at the ceiling all night in agony, and i’ll go be gay at work tomorrow or whatever

 **Eric:**  
you can do it!

 **Kent:**  
thanks :)

 **Kent:**  
good night :)

 **Eric:**  
night, k.

  


  


  


Bitty really is about to go to bed, but then his phone buzzes with a message from Larissa. She’s added him to a groupchat from the office with her, Derek, and Will. Bitty didn’t realize they were good enough friends with Will for that, but he’s been wrong before.

 **Larissa** 10:56 pm  
im just getting home now. wtf guys WTF

 **Will** 10:57 pm  
What?

 **Derek** 10:57 pm  
Kent Parson u dumbass. Answer honestly, do you think I’m his type? Do you think he’d risk a workplace tryst for me? Am I #WorthIt????

 **Larissa** 10:58 pm  
depends what “it” is

 **Bitty** 10:58 pm  
that was surprising, huh?

 **Will** 10:58 pm  
Are you seriously interested in KENT? Really?

 **Will** 10:58 pm  
I mean his ability to analyze a company’s financial health and then create a profit strategy is incredible. But still.

 **Derek** 10:59 pm  
Yeah all I ever fantasize about is his money management skills. That’s it.

 **Larissa** 10:59 pm  
*derek voice* manage my investments, kent!! shake my piggy bank harder, kent!!!

 **Derek** 10:59 pm  
Inappropriate 

**Will** 11:00 pm  
Gross.

 **Bitty** 11:00 pm  
i literally can’t handle this.

 **Bitty** 11:00 pm  
just promise me that you won’t be weird about it tomorrow. be PROFESSIONAL. and supportive.

 **Derek** 11:01 pm  
Yeah no shit Bitty! What did you think I was going to do?

 **Larissa** 11:01 pm  
hit on him

 **Will** 11:01 pm  
Spill coffee on him.

 **Derek** 11:01 pm  
Weak

 **Bitty** 11:02 pm  
i wash my hands of this

 **Bitty** 11:02 pm  
just be respectful in person. please god that’s all i ask.

 **Will** 11:02 pm  
Yeah, obviously. It’s cool.

 **Will** 11:03 pm  
Also -- Bitty?

 **Bitty** 11:04 pm  
….what? 

**Will** 11:04 pm  
No, I mean -- why are they calling you Bitty? Since when is that your name?

 **Derek** 11:05 pm  
I’m sorry are you guys still here I’m just daydreaming about Kent taking me into his office and telling me he’s disappointed in my output.

 **Bitty** 11:05 pm  
that is far, far too much information

 **Will** 11:06 pm  
Jesus.

  


  


  


While he’s driving to work, Bitty tries to use logic to calm himself down, reminding himself that Kent must be feeling way worse than Bitty is, but that backfires so badly that within five seconds Bitty is holding back tears.

He waits in the parking lot until he gets himself together -- not just until he’s sure he’s not going to cry, but until he knows he can be as perfectly serious or casual as Kent appears to need. Kent hasn’t messaged him today, and Bitty’s too afraid to start that conversation, so he isn’t sure what reception Kent might be looking for at work.

Probably he wants everyone to pretend like it didn’t happen, with just one or two acknowledgments thrown in throughout the day so he doesn’t feel like he’s going crazy. Bitty would really like to _not_ be one of those acknowledgments, because the deception of talking to Kent without his knowledge is starting to go sour in his stomach, and he doesn’t think he could handle it, not about this.

Bitty makes it through the first twenty minutes at the office without seeing Kent, just by sitting at his desk and covertly reorganizing his Spotify playlists. Then he double-checks his email and remembers that today they’re meeting in small groups to discuss possible options for growing the company, and _of course_ he’s assigned to a group with Kent. 

He thinks he might be developing an ulcer; this might be a good time to take his sick leave.

When it’s time for the small groups to meet up, Kent drops by and tells Bitty and Larissa that their group’s going to meet in Kent’s office. Bitty tries to get Larissa to walk slow with him, so he can check in with her before they go into an enclosed space with Kent, but she walks right behind Kent the whole way. 

When they get to Kent’s office, there are two people who are also in their small group already waiting; Bitty knows their names are Rosa and Carson, but he doesn’t actually know them. “Morning,” he says anyway, as chipper as he can manage, and they nod at him.

“Okay,” Kent says, “in case you don’t know each other. Eric Bittle, Larissa Duan, Rosa Martinez, Carson Willis. Make yourselves comfortable.”

There are some extra chairs in Kent’s office, which he must have brought in earlier so they’d all have room to sit, and Larissa proves herself unofficial team captain by going out in the hall and rolling the cart of coffee and cookies into the room, and things go pretty smoothly, Bitty thinks. 

Kent is merciful enough to take a “let’s not and say we did” attitude toward the get-to-know-you questions and trust exercises at the beginning, and then they each have to share a “concern” they have regarding their work. Rosa and Carson both talk on and on about the most inconsequential things, like not having comfortable enough chairs or wishing the coffee was better. Bitty avoids making eye contact with anyone because he knows he’d make an annoyed face. 

When they get to the actual point of the meeting, which is to share their personal ideas for making the company more successful, Bitty holds back and waits for everyone else to speak. He does have an idea -- he’s actually been thinking about it for a while now -- but he’s not sure how to express it, or if the company might already have something like this in the works without his knowledge.

He thinks he’s going to chicken out, but Kent looks at him and asks directly. “Eric, do you have any ideas?”

Bitty flattens his hands against his pants. “Well, I was thinking -- I was wondering if it might be a good idea to have some type of -- well, not really a jobs fair, but a business fair? Something once a year, to show off the success we’ve had with current clients and to draw in new accounts. Case-by-case courting of accounts works well, but I wonder if we’d see a spike if we tried something bigger. Or maybe we already have something like that, I guess I don’t know for sure.”

Larissa raises her eyebrows at him. He can’t tell if she’s impressed with his idea or just amused by his awkwardness.

“That’s not a bad idea, Eric,” Kent says. Which is a wholly unreadable statement, and Bitty almost kind of hates him again for a second there. “We haven’t had the name recognition to pull something like that off in the past, but I think now is a good time to revisit the idea. I’ll bring it up with Rachel and see if she agrees. Anyone else?”

No one else has anything to add; they just want to go stick their faces in front of their desk fans and listen to music. Or maybe Bitty’s projecting. Kent tells them they can adjourn the meeting early as long as they don’t go parading right by Rachel’s office, and then Rosa and Carson head out.

Rudely, in Bitty’s opinion, without moving their chairs back to the kitchen area. 

Kent shrugs and waves Bitty and Larissa off, like he’s going to put all the chairs away by himself or something, but Larissa puts her foot down. “It’s not hard,” she says regally, picking up one chair in each hand and maneuvering them into decent carrying positions. “Bitty?”

Bitty scrambles to grab his chair, and watches as Kent picks up the other extra. “Onward,” Kent says, nodding for Larissa to lead the way.

As they’re putting the chairs back in the kitchen area, Bitty senses a change in Larissa’s demeanor a split second before she opens her mouth -- call it a gay sixth sense -- and tenses. “Thanks again for showing up last night,” she says to both of them, all fake casual. “I was majorly blown away by all the support.”

“It was our pleasure,” Bitty says. He tries to glare at her, but she smiles back without batting an eye. “Your work is lovely.”

“Yeah,” Kent says, “totally a great night.” 

He sounds a bit rueful, and Larissa laughs. “Seriously, you upstaged me at my own event. I feel like I deserve a bonus just for that.”

“Larissa,” Bitty says, trying to sound stern but probably just whining. “Let’s go sit at our desks. You can email Kent if you have any other inappropriate things to say.”

Kent gives Bitty a quick, lopsided smile. “I don’t mind. Hit me.”

“Sure,” Larissa agrees. “No one really let you finish what you were saying last night. Was that all you wanted to say, or do you have, like, a speech prepared?”

“Uh,” Kent says. A tiny look of panic flashes across his face for a second, but then he squares his shoulders. “I’m gay? That’s about it.” 

“Cool. That’s awesome.” Larissa nods at Bitty. “Alright, so let’s go pretend to get some work done. We’ll put the cart back where it goes, too.”

“Nah, I got it,” Kent says. He stays behind in the kitchen area as they leave, probably to have a total _meltdown_ after Larissa’s ruthless _interrogation_ , what the _hell_. 

“Larissa, you are dead to me,” Bitty hisses as they make their way back to their desks. “That was so rude putting him on the spot like that. He was really uncomfortable.” 

“He was uncomfortable in general,” Larissa says. “I just let the air out. Do you really think he was happy this morning? Knowing that he came out in a way that was probably unplanned, and even his actual coming out left some gray area? Like, that guy’s obsessed with thoroughness. He sits in his office all day and stares at spreadsheets.”

“Maybe you did help him. In your own special way,” Bitty says, rolling his eyes, but he does feel a little lighter now. He hopes Kent does, too.

  


  


  


Over the next couple days, Bitty starts to think that maybe Larissa was right. Kent seems relaxed and confident, and when they message each other on Smiley, Kent says things are going great at work.

When Kent takes notes at a full-office meeting with a rainbow pencil, Bitty tries not to smile as Larissa prods his ankle with her foot.

  


  


  


Not everyone shares Kent’s good mood, as Bitty notes in growing concern as he watches Will navigate what appears to be a horrible phone call. 

“That’s not true,” Will snaps, for what might be the twentieth time. Bitty waves a hand in the air, trying to get his attention -- it _is_ part of Bitty’s job to handle conflict -- but Will ignores him. “I know what I’m talking about, if you’d stop talking over me you’d actually know what I’m saying.” He sounds _pissed_ , and is only barely managing to keep his volume at a normal level.

Larissa makes a what-the-hell look at Bitty. _Disconnect phone?_ she mouths at him, or at least Bitty thinks that’s what she’s trying to say based on the way she’s motioning like she’s pulling the plug.

 _God save us all,_ Bitty mouths back.

“That’s not what I -- “ Will loses his cool and growls into the phone. Growls.

“Uh, dude,” Derek says from his desk. “Chill.”

Will gives him the finger, which is almost delightful in how completely it contradicts Will’s ordinary commitment to workplace decorum, except Bitty is too busy freaking out over the possibility of Will being fired to laugh.

“Look, give the phone to someone else. Someone in the IT department, preferably,” Will says. “No. You’re not in the IT department. I refuse to believe you’re in the IT department. How can you be in the IT department when you don’t even understand how to --”

“Woah there,” Kent says, gently pushing the phone a few inches away from Will’s face. “Go get some coffee.”

“I don’t like the coffee here,” Will grits out between his teeth.

“Then don’t drink it,” Kent says. He pulls the phone again, this time dislodging it from Will’s hand. “Actually, stay.” He puts the phone to his ear. “Hello, this is Kent Parson speaking now. I’m sorry about that. High school interns aren’t what they used to be. Can I help you?”

Will folds his arms and leans back in his chair, mouth twisting down in a scowl as Derek and Bitty both start giggling. Larissa smirks but manages to look mostly unaffected. 

“Ah,” Kent says, grabbing Will’s elbow in case he tries to leave. “I should be able to help you with that.” He proceeds to act as, basically, a translator, narrating the caller’s questions and comments as naturally as he can and rephrasing Will’s answers into something resembling good-natured politeness, pretending he’s the one who knows what to do. 

Twenty minutes later, the problem is solved. Kent chews out Will for being rude to a client at a very quiet volume, and Bitty has literally not gotten a single thing done since the phone call started. He watches while totally pretending not to watch as Kent walks away and Will sulks at his desk.

“Bro,” Derek finally says, “that was wild.”

“Shut up,” Will mumbles. He looks a little red.

Bitty still feels warm, fond at the way Kent handled Will’s temper and amused at how drily he relayed information back and forth without letting the client catch on. He keeps smiling at his computer, not really seeing anything, until he finally catches Larissa watching him. He scowls at her and tries to get back to work.

The thing is -- he’s really glad he stopped hating Kent. And he’s really glad they’re approaching a relationship that might count as being work friends. He likes Kent, and he likes that feeling.

  


  


  


**Eric:**  
you’ll never guess what i bought today

 **Kent:**  
???

 **Eric:**  
i went to target and bought like 8 candles

 **Kent:**  
oh nice

 **Kent:**  
WAIT are you planning to seduce someone? is the love drought over?

 **Eric:**  
i have no immediate plans! and i don’t appreciate you calling my romantic life a love drought, thank you very much….. maybe i’m just taking a break. regrouping, if you will.

 **Kent:**  
so the candles are more of a self-love thing?

 **Eric:**  
KENT

 **Kent:**  
woah there eric, did you think i meant something inappropriate by that? you know i would never.

 **Eric:**  
i know what you meant mister fake innocence

 **Eric:**  
maybe i just want some candles to create a pleasant atmosphere for a relaxing night in

 **Kent:**  
a relaxing night in huh? sounds totally innocent.

 **Eric:**  
oh hush, i just like to watch grey’s sometimes and get a little tipsy by myself

 **Eric:**  
but if you want me to have a really relaxing night in, you could always send me another picture of those abs of yours

 **Kent:**  
and that would relax you huh

 **Eric:**  
eventually ;)

 **Kent:**  
WOW

 **Kent:**  
i’m out with friends now but maybe later :)

 **Eric:**  
well. good. 

**Eric:**  
then put your phone down and go have fun with your friends, i don’t want to keep you.

 **Kent:**  
maybe im having more fun talking to you

 **Kent:**  
i wouldn’t say no to hearing more about your relaxing nights in

 **Eric:**  
well now i’m just embarrassed. hang out with your friends and have fun, because i’m going to clean my apartment and think pure thoughts.

 **Kent:**  
awwww 

**Kent:**  
think of me while you clean out your drain ;)

 **Eric:**  
oh lord

 **Eric:**  
good night, sweetheart.

  


  


  


It’s a Thursday morning, and Bitty’s only plans for the weekend are to go over to Holster and Ransom’s place and bake a few pies, then stay over for a game night with Chowder and Farmer. So he gives Larissa his best puppy-dog eyes, along with a flyer for a disco night at a local club, and she tosses the flyer to Derek.

So now Bitty has plans, and he’s going to need to find a really good clubbing outfit if he’s going out with Larissa and Derek, because they -- Derek in particular -- are excellent dressers. 

“Bits,” Derek says after lunch, yawning, “could you bring these files down to Greg’s office? He wants to look at them before he heads out early.”

Bitty narrows his eyes down at where Derek’s sitting, even though he’s already planning to say yes. “And this is my job because…?”

“Because… you’re already standing up?”

“That I am,” Bitty says, and he takes the files from Derek. “You owe me. Big time.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Derek winks, like _that_ implication is appropriate in the workplace. Bitty swats Derek’s head with the files and heads off for Greg’s office.

Greg is just a few doors down from Kent, and Bitty is above lingering outside Kent’s door, he _is_ , but it doesn’t matter because Kent comes out into the hall right away. “Hey,” Kent says, leaning down to use the copy machine and glancing sideways at Bitty over his shoulder. It’s -- a good angle for him, Bitty thinks reflexively, and he almost forgets to answer.

“Hey,” he says back, after a few seconds, and he drifts a little closer. “Getting excited for the weekend?”

“Yeah,” Kent smiles. “Visiting my parents Sunday, maybe going to a concert with some friends Monday.”

Bitty raises his eyebrows. “That’s not the weekend.” He can feel his face flirting, which is probably _illegal_ or something since Kent has seniority over him, but he can’t help it. Kent’s cute, and there’s something about his lopsided smirk that heats up Bitty’s skin, their newfound status as workplace friends be damned. 

It doesn’t help that Bitty can glance down at Kent’s button-up and doesn’t even have to imagine what Kent’s abs look like. He’s got _photographic evidence_.

He has pretty eyes, too. And arms, and freckles, and jawline, and --

“No, guess not,” Kent says. “But what about you? You partying this weekend?”

“Well,” Bitty says, feeling his face heat up for _no stupid reason_ as he smiles up at Kent, “I wouldn’t say I do much of _that_ , it’s not really my thing --”

“If you want to party with us,” Larissa says from behind them, making Bitty jump, “you should come with us tomorrow night. We’re going to this club Bitty found. Disco night. You in?”

Kent takes his paper out of the copy machine and raises an eyebrow at Larissa. God, he’s so cute. It’s fine. “Sure. Just give me a time and place, and I’ll be there.” He smiles back at Bitty, and Bitty feels like Kent is really saying he’ll be there for Bitty.

Even though he isn’t. And Bitty needs to calm down.

“Great,” Larissa says. Then, because she’s becoming more and more of a troll every day, “It’s a date.”

Bitty almost chokes as he follows Larissa away, waving over his shoulder as Kent goes back into his office.

“You’re not subtle,” Bitty hisses as they round the corner.

Larissa’s smirk is alarmingly self-satisfied. “Neither are you.”

  


  


  


Friday comes, and Bitty is _excited_.

And sure, he’s always excited for Friday -- but this one is special. He’s going clubbing, which he hasn’t done in awhile, and he’s going to get to know some of his work friends better. And, if he’s especially lucky, he’ll be inches away from Kent Parson on a dance floor that’s only mildly sticky while disco lights flicker across their shoulders.

This has all the makings of a very good Friday night.

As fun as Bitty thinks it would be to dress in an over-the-top disco outfit tonight, he knows he can’t make that big of a fool out of himself when Kent’s there. Because he doesn’t know Kent well, _not_ because he’s developing a crush on Kent. Thinking someone is attractive when that person is, on every objective level, incredibly good-looking isn’t the same thing as having a crush.

So Bitty hangs up an outfit in his car that’s appropriate for clubbing but less than appropriate for work, and then he tries to get through the workday without acting _too_ excited, because Larissa wouldn’t let him live that down. 

He makes it through the morning on coffee and nervous energy alone, and winds up taking his lunch break at the same time as Kent and Kent’s friend Nathan. The two of them were already going out for lunch, apparently at a restaurant they eat at all the time, and Kent invites Bitty along like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do. 

At first Bitty doesn’t know if he should accept or not, especially because he’s barely interacted with Nathan before and none of those interactions left a particularly pleasant taste in his mouth, but he does really enjoy his friendship with Kent. He likes getting to know Kent in real life, and he wants to keep an eye on him now that Kent’s officially come out at work, and _that’s_ why he says yes.

They find a table and order quickly; the servers are familiar with Kent and Nathan and know they’re expected back at work soon. Bitty doesn’t know what to order -- there are a lot of options, and he’s never been here before -- so Kent orders him a burger and promises it’s going to be good. 

Kent asks Nathan about a date Nathan recently went on, which takes up enough time that their food arrives, and Bitty is only a little surprised to find out that the burger Kent ordered for him is, in fact, amazing.

When Nathan finishes his slightly overwrought narration, he grabs the ketchup bottle and pours some next to his fries. “Hey, are you dating at all?” he asks, and he’s looking at Kent. 

Bitty pays attention.

“Not much,” Kent says. “Why? You trying to set me up with someone?”

“Hell yeah,” Nathan says. “Right gender this time, too. My cousin was a theater major, I’m gonna get her to text me info on all the gays she knows.”

“Oh my god,” Bitty chokes, and Kent just cackles.

“Sure,” Kent says. “Sure, send me the whole portfolio.”

“Right,” Nathan says seriously. “Also, she asked me this, and I don’t know if there’s a politer way to phrase it, but, like, how gay are you? Is there a gay spectrum? She claims this is necessary data if she’s going to send me good matches.”

Kent meets Bitty’s eyes. “Dude, I’m stuck with a bunch of straight friends, I don’t know. Bitty, how gay am I?”

Bitty tries not to let it show on his face, but his stomach jumps with excitement at the fact that Kent just called him Bitty. Because -- he doesn’t know why. Maybe he does have a small, small little crush. “Gayer than you let on.” 

Kent squawks in faux-indignation, and Nathan leans forward. “Expand on that.”

It’s actually really, really difficult to expand on that. Bitty doesn’t want to accidentally say something that he learned through their secret conversations, and he doesn’t want to say anything that will make Kent feel self-conscious or embarrassed in front of Nathan, and his brain is drawing a big ol’ blank. “Um,” he tries, “you listen to Britney Spears in your office when you think no one is listening?” Technically he did learn that through talking with Kent secretly, but Kent will just think Bitty overheard it at work.

“Oh, shit,” Kent groans, and Nathan laughs. “Okay, you caught me. And I like fruity drinks and Madonna songs and I’ve seen The Lizzie McGuire movie _several_ times. Let’s not leave anything out, huh?”

Bitty smiles, and it’s immediately, deeply comforting -- in a way he really didn’t expect -- to see Kent talking about this so candidly. “I think you forgot something,” he says, enjoying the way Kent playfully swings around to look at him. “You’re coming with me to the disco club tonight, right? Let’s not leave _that_ out.”

“Holy shit,” Nathan says, eyes getting significantly wider. “You’re going out together?”

The way he says it, it’s unclear whether he means _going out_ as a literal concept or a romantic thing, but Kent coughs as he puts his water down. “No, Nathan! Jesus. There’s a couple other people from the office coming with us. No.”

Bitty doesn’t know why it hurts to hear Kent deny it so vehemently -- he doesn’t sound disgusted, just surprised, and it’s true that they’re not going out together -- but he doesn’t want to think about it right now. “We’d have invited you, Nathan,” is all he says, “but it’s hard to imagine you at a club on disco night.”

“He’s saying you’re not fun,” Kent says with a grin, and the conversation winds on.

Later, when they get back to the office and have a few minutes before their lunch break is officially over, Bitty finds himself following Kent into the kitchen area. Kent grabs a glass and fills it with water at the sink, so Bitty does too.

He feels silly, slightly disconnected from his own actions -- there’s a sensible voice in his head telling him to quit acting like a kid with a crush -- but he can’t help but stick close to Kent. He feels like he can’t help it when he opens his mouth and says, “Nathan is really something, isn’t he? He asks a lot of questions.”

“Yeah,” Kent says, rolling his eyes. He drinks some of his water, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Bitty tries not to stare. “There’s probably a word for what he is.”

“Brazen’s a good one, I think.”

“I was gonna go with dumbass, but yours sounds smarter.”

Bitty giggles -- God, he sounds twelve -- and takes a gulp of his water. “I can’t believe he thought we were together. Or, I don’t know, going together, you know?” He finishes with a weak laugh; the sensible voice in his head is screaming at him to shut up.

“Yeah,” Kent snorts. It sounds mean. Then, “Trust me, you’re not my type at all.” He sounds anything but casual, voice laced with what almost sounds like disgust. 

“Oh,” Bitty says. He pours the rest of his water out and grabs the soapy dishcloth that rests next to the sink, barely seeing what he’s doing. As he finishes washing his glass, he can see Kent start to leave the room from the corner of his eye. And that’s not fair, because Kent doesn’t get to just walk away after all that. “Come back here,” Bitty says, and is surprised at the iron in his own voice.

Kent stops, but he doesn’t turn around until a few seconds pass. He doesn’t say anything, just watches Bitty with a sullen expression.

Bitty feels -- he’s hurt by what Kent said. He wishes he weren’t, but even if he didn’t have a tiny little crush on Kent, he’d still be hurt. Because Kent was _rude_ , was _mean_ , and that’s always going to hurt Bitty’s feelings. So he lets his hurt show on his face, and he says, “Don’t talk to me like that. Whatever Nathan said, or whatever’s going on with you, it’s not my fault. It’s not okay for you to talk to me like that.”

Kent stares at him for a second, his face going through a quick line of emotions -- annoyed, defensive, shocked, guilty. “Shit,” Kent says, walking back to where Bitty’s standing, as carefully as if he were walking over a minefield, “I’m sorry. That was -- that was 100% out of line. I’m in a weird mood, I guess, from so many conversations being all _let’s talk about how gay you are_ when I’m used to people not even knowing. It just put me on edge, you know, and it’s not on you at all.”

“No,” Bitty says, looking down at the counter, “it’s not.”

“I’m sorry,” Kent says again. He sounds like he means it, but Bitty doesn’t look up. “I just have to get used to people talking about it. And, for what it’s worth, it feels way worse when people are, like, speculating about who I might be dating, even though it’s stupid to feel that way, and I totally lashed out at you for no good reason. I’m really sorry, Eric.”

Bitty shifts on his feet and instructs himself not to be charmed. “Okay. I accept your apology.”

“And, uh, I really don’t have a specific type,” Kent adds, looking like he might also have a sensible voice yelling at him in his head. He’s being uncharacteristically awkward, at least. “So even the actual, you know, content of what I said was bullshit. I was just in a bad mood from everyone making comments and theorizing about who I’m seeing, and you just… got in the way. There’s nothing wrong with the way you look, trust me.”

“Okay,” Bitty repeats, starting to feel himself blushing. He tries and fails to keep his face from getting any warmer. He tries not to think about what Kent might or might not be implying.

“Like,” Kent rushes to continue, his own face looking a shade pinker, “I’m not being -- I’m not saying -- don’t take this as anything, uh, inappropriate. I’m not trying to say you _are_ my type, either. Just that I don’t have one. And that even though I was a dick and tried to make you feel bad about joking that way, I definitely don’t think you’re, you know, ugly or whatever.” Kent lets out a huge breath, messes a hand in his hair for a second. “Well, I’m really sorry, and this is getting awkward, so I’m gonna go? Plus my lunch break is ending.” He heads back to the doorway, turning around one last time. “Seriously, I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” Bitty says. Then, feeling cheeky, he calls out, “And you’d better show up tonight in sequined bell-bottoms! There’s a dress code for disco night, mister.”

Kent looks confused, then starts cracking up laughing. 

Bitty is just -- he doesn’t know how he feels. Still hurt, but also happy, and hopeful, and curious, and excited. 

He’s a mess of adrenaline and too many emotions, is what he is. And he can’t wait to go dancing.

  


  


  


**Ransom** 4:31 pm  
biiiiitssss 

**Ransom** 4:31 pm  
all of us are going to chow and farm’s tonight, you in?

 **Farmer** 4:32 pm  
I haven’t seen you in forever!!! Come over around 6?

 **Bitty** 4:33 pm  
oh :(

 **Bitty** 4:33 pm  
i wish i could, but i already have plans with some coworkers tonight. 

**Chowder** 4:34 pm  
THAT coworker???? :) :) :)

 **Bitty** 4:34 pm  
a few?? who are you talking about?

 **Holster** 4:34 pm  
Oh please.

 **Farmer** 4:35 pm  
Oh is this that Kent guy?

 **Bitty** 4:35 pm  
are you guys serious? why are you even talking about this??

 **Ransom** 4:36 pm  
so is he going out with you tonight or not

 **Bitty** 4:36 pm  
technically 

**Bitty** 4:36 pm  
i wasn’t even the one who invited him, though. it’s NOT A BIG DEAL.

 **Chowder** 4:37 pm  
no, your crush on him is absolutely not a big deal :)

 **Ransom** 4:37 pm  
holster, wherever you are right now, BREATHE

 **Bitty** 4:38 pm  
I DONT HAVE A CRUSH ON HIM

 **Farmer** 4:38 pm  
That would be more convincing if you didn’t use all caps. Or if you remembered to use punctuation. :)

 **Chowder** 4:39 pm  
where are you going with him? and with a few of your other coworkers blah blah blah??

 **Bitty** 4:39 pm  
i invited larissa and derek out dancing. larissa invited kent later. because she has a fundamental misconception of the situation. much like you guys.

 **Ransom** 4:39 pm  
soooooo you’re clubbing w him. don’t forget condoms and use plenty of lube etc

 **Holster** 4:40 pm  
Please take my silence as bitter judgment, because it is.

 **Holster** 4:40 pm  
WAIT WHAT THE FUCK RANSOM

 **Ransom** 4:40 pm  
i saw sparks at the art show thing. just sayinggg 

**Farmer** 4:40 pm  
I’m really sad I missed it tbh.

 **Farmer** 4:41 pm  
But Chris gave me the rundown and this seems like a classic Lizzy Bennett and Mr. Darcy situation. Hatred and bad first impressions lead to love etc. 

**Holster** 4:41 pm  
Okay no I can’t believe you would just desecrate Pride and Prejudice like that

 **Bitty** 4:41 pm  
JANE AUSTEN DIDN’T DIE FOR THIS

 **Chowder** 4:42 pm  
lol 

**Chowder** 4:42 pm  
but like on a scale of 1-10, exactly how big is your crush on him bits….. don’t lie

 **Bitty** 4:42 pm  
he’s a coworker who’s just starting to become a friendly acquaintance. i don’t have a crush on him.

 **Bitty** 4:42 pm  
he is attractive in a general sense. just because i can see that doesn’t mean i have a crush on him.

 **Ransom** 4:43 pm  
hmmmmm 

**Farmer** 4:43 pm  
It’s really selfless of you to have all these long, deep talks with him outside of work hours, where you help him with all his personal problems without him even knowing who you are. Especially since you don’t even like him that much.

 **Bitty** 4:43 pm  
thank you!!

 **Holster** 4:43 pm  
Bitty no…… 

**Bitty** 4:44 pm  
wait a second

 **Ransom** 4:44 pm  
lol 

**Bitty** 4:44 pm  
that’s an unfair comment and it’s not like that at all. i don’t have feelings for him and even if i did, they aren’t serious. it’s all good!!

 **Chowder** 4:45 pm  
uhhh??? 

**Ransom** 4:45 pm  
FEELINGS

 **Bitty** 4:45 pm  
anyway i’m still on the clock, so i’m silencing my phone now! stop trying to get me fired. i’ll talk to you later.

 **Chowder** 4:45 pm  
like you’ll get fired when one of your supervisors wants to get it on with you 

**Holster** 4:46 pm  
This whole conversation has been really unsatisfactory and kinda gross??

 **Farmer** 4:46 pm  
Bitty if you’re reading this, make sure you grind on Kent a lot tonight.

 **Chowder** 4:46 pm  
kent if you’re reading this, please pick a clean bathroom for your inevitable club hookup, our friend bitty is a very particular sort

 **Bitty** 4:47 pm  
turning phone off now

  


  


  


Like he does every Friday, Bitty clocks out at 5:00. Derek leaves with him, and Larissa -- who normally leaves at 5:30 -- arranges to meet them down the street from the club at seven, so they can chill and eat dinner before heading for the line to get in around ten.

Bitty doesn’t ask if Kent’s joining them for dinner, because it’s not super important. 

He and Derek catch a movie first, and spill out of the theater right at seven. “Good timing,” Bitty comments, trying to readjust to the outside world, which is considerably less sunny than it was when they first stepped into the movie theater, even if it is still light out.

It turns out that Larissa did invite Kent to dinner, and they squeeze around a small table in this Chinese restaurant that gets really good reviews and is still relatively cheap. Bitty lets Derek take the chair next to Kent, because he’s too nervous to sit by him for some reason, but sitting directly across from Kent is almost worse. 

His hair looks _really_ nice, is the thing. And there are a million reasons he could be smiling shyly at Bitty whenever their eyes meet, so Bitty tries not to read too much into it, but it still makes his stomach feel weird.

He wonders if Kent still feels awkward about their sort-of fight earlier. If that’s all this is, the only reason he’s smiling like that. 

Larissa pulls Kent away later, because apparently there’s a karaoke machine in the back of the restaurant, and Derek and Bitty are too smart to agree to go up on stage with her. Neither Kent nor Larissa are bad singers, but their voices don’t sound great together, which becomes pretty obvious after the first minute of “Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart.” 

Through a little misdirection and a glass of something golden and very alcoholic, Larissa maneuvers her way off stage and gets some random guy on the sidelines to join Kent up there, and they pull off a somewhat convincing rendition of “Dancing Queen.”

“Nice,” Derek says, even though the dance moves currently on display from Kent’s partner are anything but. “Getting the disco vibes rolling early, right?”

Larissa shrugs, pleased with herself. “Maybe it’ll be like High School Musical and they’ll fall in love.”

Derek elbows her. “You watched High School Musical?”

Larissa’s smile quickly becomes a scowl as she realizes she’s been caught being uncool. “No. I just know the concept.”

“You watched High School Musical,” Derek says smugly. 

Bitty is barely listening. He’s just trying to figure out if the guy Kent’s singing with is straight or not. It’s a tough call.

When “Dancing Queen” ends and the guy sticks around to sing “I Will Survive” with Kent, Bitty orders another drink and starts to feel his good mood dissolving.

“What’s up, Bittle?” Larissa asks, kicking at him and missing. “Something on your mind?”

He pulls his drink closer, in a move that makes him feel uncomfortably similar to a dragon hoarding gold. “I don’t think this random guy’s a good singer. He’s giving me a headache.”

“Doesn’t sound bad to me,” Larissa says with a shrug.

“Hey,” Derek says, starting to get excited. That’s probably the alcohol in him. “You wanna go up and do something all together? I don’t want to do a duet or solo or whatever, but if it was all four of us it could be fun.”

There’s not really a line -- just a small crowd enjoying the show -- so when the song ends, they pressure the other guy off the stage and get settled. Larissa grabs the other mic and motions for Derek to share with her, so Bitty doesn’t really have any option besides standing close to Kent so they can both use his microphone.

They let Derek choose the song, and Kent starts laughing when he picks “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.” It’s a warm, rough laugh, and Bitty doesn’t know what he’s been doing wrong to have never heard it before, at least never so full and unguarded, but now he wants to hear it every second. 

That’s a weird thought. He pushes it away and focuses on slaying the song. He’s pretty sure they kill it, and he and Kent keep making each other laugh from how intensely they’re belting out the lyrics, and Bitty feels disappointed when it’s over and he has to walk off the stage.

Derek stays behind, because apparently his unwillingness to sing a solo has vanished like the morning mist. It’s ridiculous and unsurprising when he chooses “Iris” as his song, and equally unsurprising when his deadly mix of vocals and beauty creates a mild sensation in the crowd.

They sit together, slightly too close, as new customers brave the karaoke machine, and Bitty doesn’t know if it’s the laughter, the alcohol, or feeling the hum of Kent’s body just an inch away from his own, but by the time it’s time to leave for the club, Bitty’s positively _giddy_ , tripping down the street and smiling at everyone.

It’s a short line, since they’re early at 10:00, and it turns out that the disco music won’t be starting until eleven. For now, it’s standard pop and dance tunes, and they join the dancing bodies on the floor. 

Bitty lets himself drift away from the others, because he wants to dance a little dirty tonight and he’s not sure if he wants Kent to see that. Since Kent is a supervisor and all. 

He also doesn’t know if Kent’s going to let himself get his gay on tonight. It would probably be a good step for him, dancing with men while he’s out with people he knows, but Bitty doesn’t really want to see it right now. Kent’s hot -- he can admit it -- and there are some things you can’t unsee, which could be tricky later. 

This isn’t what Bitty’s here for. Stress and overthinking aren’t welcome on the dance floor, and he closes his eyes and works himself a little lower, letting the beat fill him up until all his irritating thoughts are forgotten. 

When Bitty opens his eyes, he looks for someone to dance with. It’s not hard to figure out who’s straight and who has potential, especially when Bitty’s already sending out all the right signals, and he looks up from under his eyelashes at a guy who must be at least six-foot-two. 

Lord, is this man big. 

His hands are big too, and Bitty leans into them encouragingly when the guy wraps his hands around Bitty’s hips, turning him around so they’re back-to-front. Bitty doesn’t see this going anywhere, not even to a quick hookup, but it feels good to dance.

After the song ends, Bitty gently removes himself from the man’s grip and finds a new dance partner; he doesn’t want anyone looking to think he’s here with a boyfriend. He closes his eyes through most songs, lost in the way the bass thrums through his bones and the hard press of other men’s bodies against his, and it must be at least 10:30 when he sees Kent dancing.

He’s wrapped around a smaller man just a few yards away from Bitty, and something about it jolts Bitty right out of the song, and he’s suddenly confused, annoyed by the man grinding against his ass and unsure of what he should be doing. Kent’s face is pressed against the other man’s sweaty neck, and Bitty wonders if Kent’s going to put his mouth on him. 

Bitty looks the other way, and when the song starts to wrap up he untangles himself from his current partner and accidentally walks straight into Kent.

“Hey,” Kent says, breathing heavy and grinning down at him. He’s only a few inches taller than Bitty, but he’s broader and looks older and _feels_ bigger, and Bitty feels that difference now more than ever. “Wanna dance?”

“Oh,” Bitty says. He should say _That’s a terrible idea_ , because right now what he really wants is for Kent to drag him over to a wall and have his way with him, which is not a good sign. “Okay,” he says instead, because his brain isn’t really in charge right now.

There are more people on the floor than when they arrived, and Bitty appreciates the crowd. It makes him feel anonymous, like even Kent won’t be focused on him as they dance. 

He knows that’s probably not true, though, because with Kent behind him, his hands light on Bitty’s waist, Bitty forgets that there are other people he could even be focusing on. 

But even though Bitty feels lightheaded the whole time, there’s really nothing inherently sexual about the way they’re dancing; the only physical contact is Kent’s hands on Bitty’s sides, Kent’s chest brushing against Bitty’s back now and then. 

It’s only when someone bumps into Bitty, stepping on his foot and almost sending him sprawling, that Kent laughs softly in his ear -- sending a shiver all the way down Bitty’s body, what the heck -- and tugs him closer. “It’s dangerous in here,” he jokes, and Bitty can hear the smile in his voice. He smiles too, not that Kent can even see, and lets himself lean into Kent’s shoulder as they dance. 

There’s a hard knot of dread in Bitty’s stomach as the song ends, because he doesn’t want it to be over yet. But when the song ends, Kent’s arms loosen from his sides only to turn him around and rest lightly on Bitty’s shoulders. “I like this song,” Kent says, and Bitty smiles bigger than he should.

Yeah, it goes against his club rules to dance with the same person twice. But he knows Kent -- he came here with Kent. He can dance with a work friend twice.

Bitty likes the song too, and it’s really fun to be able to look at Kent while they dance. There’s nothing about it that’s tense or awkward; more than anything, Bitty feels light, like he’s just another fun, happy, good-looking person in a club that’s full of them, and he doesn’t worry about what he might look like. 

Kent keeps his hands looped around Bitty’s shoulders, and Bitty rests his hands high on Kent’s sides. Bitty laughs whenever someone bumps into them, and the way Kent’s moving his hips might count as dirty except he’s still not touching Bitty with his body.

It’s when the third song begins, and Bitty doesn’t move from Kent’s arms, that Bitty starts to get the feeling he’s doing something he shouldn’t. 

He still moves closer to Kent, and Kent doesn’t pull back.

Bitty can feel Kent’s hands move down to his lower back, where they press in on either side in a way that feels almost dirty. He can’t stop himself from leaning into Kent’s body as they dance, and he’s just doing what the beat tells him to do, and he’s doing what his body wants, and every inch of Bitty’s body feels intoxicated on the closeness of Kent’s body.

He catches his breath when Kent leans in, bending Bitty a few inches backward as he breathes against Bitty’s neck. Suddenly Bitty’s body is hungry, wanting to feel one of Kent’s legs between his own, to ride him in the middle of the dance floor where anyone could see, but it feels like he can’t move as Kent digs his hand into the space between Bitty’s shoulderblades.

With one of Kent’s hands on his lower back and one supporting him higher, bent backward and letting his legs dangle uselessly as he lets Kent support most of his weight, Bitty feels like he’s going to die if Kent keeps him here without giving him _something_ \-- he’s grinding against Bitty’s hips, breath hot on Bitty’s neck, but Bitty wants more, a hand on his ass or a tongue pushing his mouth open or his head pulled back by the hair. His legs pried apart. _Something_.

Kent’s mouth moves upward, and Bitty lets out a gasp when he feels Kent’s teeth brushing against his jaw. 

Later, he understands that the sound of his gasp is what snapped Kent out of it, but in the moment he only feels Kent tense up before stepping away. Bitty’s so off-balance he almost falls down, and by the time he feels like he has command of his five senses again, he doesn’t see Kent anywhere.

Bitty can feel his muscles shaking, and he kind of wants to sit down. Or take a cold shower.

He doesn’t want to dance with anyone else right now, so he navigates his way through the club until he finds where Larissa and Derek are dancing.

“Found you,” he says weakly, and it’s hard to believe that everything that happened isn’t written on his face. He tries to focus on Larissa’s and Derek’s faces instead.

“I think the disco’s starting soon!” Derek yells, and Bitty laughs and lets Derek shimmy around him for a minute.

He stays with them, and it’s actually a lot easier to calm down than he thought it would be. By the time the club transitions to disco music, Bitty’s just having fun, the feel of Kent’s hands on him far from his mind.

“Hey, there you are!” Larissa yells, several songs later, and Bitty watches Kent come over to join them.

Kent smiles, as relaxed and lazy as Bitty’s ever seen him. “Everybody Wang Chung tonight,” he yells back, and nobody can disagree with that. 

The four of them stick together, dancing without really dancing with each other, and the mix of disco and disco-inspired pop is so much fun that Bitty barely thinks about what happened when he was dancing with Kent.

Even when it turns out that Kent’s eyes look strangely beautiful under the disco lights. Even when Kent throws his head back and screams along to “It’s Raining Men.” 

“Best night ever, oh my god,” Larissa says later, as they’re standing in the street and waiting for Derek to finish getting sick in a McDonald’s bathroom. “Bitty, I am so glad you told me about this.”

“Yeah,” Kent says. He’s swinging his keys on his fingers, smiling vaguely and acting like nothing too interesting happened tonight. “That was a fun place.”

“Yeah,” Bitty echoes. 

When Derek joins them, face damp and a little swagger absent from his step, Larissa and Kent say goodbye. Larissa gives Derek and Bitty a fistbump each, and Kent does the whole bro half-hug thing with Larissa and Derek.

“That was a lot for one night,” Kent says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Think I need a day just to recover now. I’m getting old.”

“We all know you just spend every weekend in with your cat, Parson, it’s fine,” Larissa says.

Derek brightens up for a second. “Cat? What’s her name? His name?”

“Her,” Kent says. “And that’s classified.”

“So…. Bubbles?” Larissa guesses.

Kent rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Whatever, I’m out of here.” He pulls Bitty into a quick hug, since he already said goodbye to the other two. He takes an extra second to let go of Bitty’s shoulder, squeezing in a way that no one else can probably see before leaning back. “Talk to you on Monday,” he says casually, but he looks at Bitty one more time before walking away.

“Bye,” Larissa says, raising an eyebrow at Bitty. “Don’t let Derek puke in your car. He’s not worth it.”

“Hey,” Derek says, “I so am.”

Bitty wrinkles his nose. “Let’s go ask for a bag,” he says, pulling on Derek’s arm as they go back to the McDonald’s building.

He looks back and sees Kent getting into his car, hair messy and lit up by the neon lights of the club, the muscles of his shoulders visible through the thin fabric of his shirt even from this distance. 

It’s just past two in the morning, and Bitty thinks he’s made a bigger mistake than even he knows what to do with.

He watches Kent for a moment longer anyway.

  


  


  


Bitty wants to message Kent all Saturday morning, but he tells himself over and over that it’s too dishonest, too unethical. He reads for awhile, and stares at his phone; he dusts the floorboards, and stares at his phone; he tries to take a nap, and all he does is stare at his phone.

Finally, he just can’t take it anymore. He’s going crazy not talking to Kent, and he can’t push down the burning curiosity -- would Kent say anything about what happened last night? 

He doesn’t have the right to know what Kent might be thinking, and he feels guilty for grabbing his phone and opening up his messaging app, but something inside of him goes lighter when he sees Kent’s name in his contacts.

  


**Eric:**  
hey sunshine, how's your saturday going?

 **Kent:**  
i played myself tbh

 **Kent:**  
i was stressed so i committed horrible acts of day drinking, and now i’m probs not safe to go chill in my calm down place whoops

 **Eric:**  
aww 

**Eric:**  
you mean that park right? 

**Eric:**  
and what are you stressed about?

 **Kent:**  
i dont want your PITY

 **Kent:**  
ehhh whatever. im not gonna talk to you about other guys. hows your saturday going?

 **Eric:**  
it’s been lovely, but if you think i’m going to let you wiggle your way out of telling me about any new developments in your love life, you are sadly mistaken.

 **Kent:**  
calling it a love life might be generous. i just need to calm down and be more careful about where i put my feelings u know?? i think coming out got me overexcited lol

 **Eric:**  
you like someone?

 **Kent:**  
idk its complicated

 **Eric:**  
actually, i’m sorry for asking, i shouldn’t have. that’s none of my business.

 **Eric:**  
is your cat helping you feel better, at least? i hope she’s very sweet to you.

 **Kent:**  
oh hell yeah kits a cuddler. plus im watching the sox game and eating unhealthy snacks so its all good

 **Eric:**  
aww. i’m glad she’s taking care of you.

 **Kent:**  
oh and i believe you were looking for this?

 **Kent: ******  
[Image attached]

 **Eric:**  
well that’s just unfair

 **Eric:**  
how am i supposed to go about my everyday life now

 **Eric:**  
and how did you do this. how is this even possible.

 **Kent:**  
i mean i like to work out

 **Eric:**  
i can SEE that

 **Eric:**  
also those glasses are extremely cute. and like. your face in general is WOW.

 **Eric:**  
but you already know that :)

 **Kent:**  
you ever wanna send one?

 **Kent:**  
i mean you don’t have to

 **Kent:**  
eriiiiic i said u dont have to

 **Eric:**  
i know hon i was just thinking. i guess i’m just not comfortable with that right now.

 **Eric:**  
trust me, you’re beautiful enough for the both of us :)

 **Kent:**  
well if you ever change your mind i know i’ll think your beautiful too.

 **Eric:**  
thanks, k.

 **Kent:**  
really. i care about you a lot  & it’s pretty obvious that you’re a really great person. you’ve helped me so much and ive never even met you

 **Eric:**  
i think you’re giving me more credit than i deserve, but thank you. and i care about you too.

 **Kent:**  
ugh thats enough emotion for one day

 **Kent:**  
plus all the booze is finally making me sleepy

 **Eric:**  
you gotta go?

 **Kent:**  
yeah i think so.

 **Kent:**  
i never want to stop talking to you but im tired and still kinda drunk so its hard to stop myself from saying things i’ll regret later you know?

 **Eric:**  
get some rest, angel. i’ll talk to you later.

 **Kent:**  
i’ll miss you

 **Eric:**  
just get some sleep, k.

 **Kent:**  
oh wait is that one of those things i’ll regret saying

 **Eric:**  
most likely :)

 **Eric:**  
but that’s okay. i think you’re very sweet.

 **Kent:**  
i think you are too

 **Kent:**  
now GOODBYE before you make me say anything else

 **Eric:**  
sweet dreams! give kit a kiss for me.

 **Kent:**  
i think your being mean now :(

 **Eric:**  
i don’t know what you’re talking about

 **Eric:**  
now put your phone down, snuggle your kitty, and take a little nap. i’ll talk to you later.

 **Kent:**  
ok 

**Kent:**  
just so you know im thinking about you though

 **Eric:**  
that’s okay babe. if you’re thinking about me, i promise i’ll think about you. now put your phone down and get some sleep :)

 **Kent:**  
ok

  


  


  


Bitty manages to get through the weekend without telling any of his friends about what happened at the club. He just -- doesn’t want to open that door. It’s hard enough for him to think about the way Kent touched him, the way Kent came so close to kissing him, without freaking out; he was an idiot to let things get so close, and it’s going to make work _very_ awkward. 

Just acknowledging that to himself is enough. He doesn’t need to see Holster’s horrified expression, or to watch Chowder and Farmer share excited eye contact. Bitty’s going to handle this himself.

He texts Rachel to let her know he’ll be coming in a little late, and he stops by a cheap little coffee shop a few blocks down from the office so he can caffeine up and get his head together. While he’s waiting -- for what, he’s not sure; maybe for courage -- he bookmarks new recipes on his phone and reads reviews for a few new albums.

It’s not very satisfying, and he thinks the coffee might just be making him jumpy. 

The only reason Bitty manages to drag himself out the door and toward the office is that he doesn’t want anyone to think he’s hiding. Well, that and the fact that he doesn’t want to be fired. By the time Bitty pushes the button for the elevator, it’s a little past ten, and he fusses with his shirt all the way to the sixth floor. 

“Eric,” Will says as soon as Bitty steps into view, “thank God. Can you take Derek for a walk or something? He’s ruining the whole office.”

Derek doesn’t even bother looking offended, which Bitty takes as a bad sign. There are at least five or six crumpled napkins on Derek’s desk, and his hair is sticking up in weird places, the cuff of his right sleeve still dripping from where he must have spilled coffee earlier. His expression is frantic, overwhelmed, and somehow completely static and unchanging, like he’s found the nadir of stress and isn’t going up or down anymore.

“Um?” Bitty ventures, glancing around. He doesn’t want to just ask what’s wrong; that could be insensitive to do right in front of Derek. 

“He’s letting his friends and family read the final draft of his book today,” Larissa supplies. “And is taking it like a champ.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Derek says, and then his bottom lip starts to wobble. 

Will stiffens. “Eric! Do something.” 

Bitty’s already late, and he’s too antsy to deal with this right now, as much as he loves Derek. “Will, you’ve got this,” he says. He’s not sure Will has even slightly got this, but maybe it’ll be good for him. “Take Derek to the coffee shop in the lobby. Get some food in him. _No_ coffee. Okay?”

“Okay,” Will says, like Bitty’s asking him to go to war for him or something equally dangerous, but at least he’s doing it. “That stuff is seriously overpriced, though.”

“I’m rich,” Derek snuffles. Which is a good sign.

Will grabs Derek’s elbow impatiently and tugs him to his feet. “Like I’m letting you pay for it. You’re under emotional duress, I can pay for a muffin or whatever.”

“I want pumpkin bread,” Derek says, and Bitty starts wiping down Derek’s desk after the two of them disappear into the elevator. The napkins Derek had used really hadn’t gotten the job done, and there are crumbs that must be at least a week old.

“Kent was asking where you were,” Larissa says from her desk, where she hasn’t looked up from her computer for the last minute. “You might want to stop by his office at some point.” 

Bitty’s hand freezes for a moment, but he recovers and finishes wiping off the desk. “Okay. I should get some stuff done first, though.”

Larissa shrugs and keeps doing her graphic design thing, and Bitty settles into his desk. 

Oh Lord, that’s a lot of unread emails.

Fifteen minutes of pained typing later, he glances up when he hears Larissa dialing on her desk phone. “Oh, hi there, Kent,” she says, and even though she’s not even looking in Bitty’s direction he feels like she’s smirking at him. “Do you have any good snacks over there today?”

Bitty thinks now might be a good time to take a restroom break. He casually gets up and stretches.

“Yeah, bring ‘em over here. Actually, Bitty finally checked in. You were looking for him, right? I bet he’d like a donut too.” Larissa looks up, pinning him to the ground with her eyes. “You want a donut, right?”

He chews on his lip for a second.

“He’d love one,” Larissa says into the phone. “Okay. Sweet, thanks.” Hanging up, she goes back to her computer like nothing happened.

Bitty doesn’t know what to say, and he’s starting to suspect Larissa’s motives. “Maybe I didn’t want one.”

She shrugs. “Then I’ll have yours. Should have answered faster; time is money.”

Bitty retreats to his desk and tries to look busy. It shouldn’t be hard, considering he still has, like, thirty million emails to respond to, but now he’s distracted and it’s hard to focus. He thinks he probably is going to let Larissa have his donut; he’s too anxious to eat anything.

But then Kent comes around the corner, wearing a red button-up and smiling like he means it, and the donuts he’s holding in a napkin have the prettiest glaze on them. Bitty isn’t sure he’s going to be able to eat the donut, but he kind of wants it on his desk just so he can admire the glaze. 

“Why, thank you,” he says, accepting a donut from Kent and smiling beatifically at Larissa. “Are these both for me?”

Kent hesitates, looks over at Larissa for a second. “Uh, no? There’s a ton more if you want another one, though. You want me to grab you another?”

This joke has backfired so badly that Bitty is afraid to even look at Larissa. “Oh, no! I’m good! Thank you very much.”

“Is the other one mine?” Larissa asks, her impatience clear. Kent snaps out of whatever was keeping him frozen in place next to Bitty, and he goes over to Larissa’s desk to hand the donut over. “Yum,” Larissa says, setting it aside without taking a bite.

“Right,” Kent says. He looks back at Bitty, his expression settling into something thoughtful. “Eric, could I borrow you for a minute?”

Bitty fumbles for an answer and can’t find one, feeling himself turn red. Larissa narrows her eyes at him as he walks past her desk, and he resists the urge to stick his tongue out at her. _This is your fault_ , he wants to hiss at her, but Kent would hear him and it’s probably his own fault, anyway. 

He’s not sure what to expect, but he thinks it will probably be some variation on _hey, please don’t tell anyone what happened and also **never** hit on me again_ , and Bitty already wants to die of embarrassment. 

Kent takes Bitty right into his office, which is a bad sign, and shuts the door gently behind them, which is a worse one. “Okay, hi,” he says. He sounds nervous.

Bitty clasps his hands together behind his back so his nervousness won’t be quite so obvious. He thinks this is also one of his cuter standing positions -- which is irrelevant, so he doesn’t need to think about that now. “Hi,” he says back. He doesn’t know if he should ask about Kent’s weekend, or if that would be ridiculous.

“I need to apologize to you,” Kent says, steadier now. “About Friday.” He gestures for Bitty to sit down, so Bitty does. “In hindsight, I shouldn’t have gone with you guys. It was a fun time, and I was glad you invited me, but the difference in our positions here at work makes it inappropriate. That’s true even if -- well, you know. Even if we hadn’t danced together.”

Bitty can’t exactly sit with his hands behind his back, so he can’t stop himself from wringing his hands a little. “It’s okay. I mean, I understand. It won’t happen again.”

“Bitty --” Kent flushes, and it’s so _pretty_ that Bitty kind of wants to just storm out of the office, “Eric. You don’t need to apologize, I do. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m okay with the conversation stopping there if you don’t want to talk about it anymore, but if you want to talk to Rachel, or HR, that’s totally fair.”

Bitty blinks. “Why would I talk to HR?” He knows why, technically, but he still doesn’t really understand why Kent thinks Bitty would want to do that.

“Uh,” Kent says. “There are, like, rules and stuff. Seniority. Sexual harassment?”

“I didn’t feel very harassed,” Bitty says wryly. He knows this is a serious conversation, but he wants to smile for some stupid reason. “But thank you for apologizing. And for the donut.”

Kent’s forehead creases a little. “Well, you’re welcome. Are you -- look, I just don’t want things being weird between us. Or, like, weird around the office in general.”

Bitty reaches out and pats his arm. He hopes it’s a comforting gesture, but he also can’t help but appreciate the feel of Kent’s forearm under his fingers. “It’s okay, I didn’t mention it to anyone. And I guess I was worried about things being weird too, but we’re good. I promise.”

“Okay,” Kent says. He nods very professionally. “Well, then, that’s good. Do you want another donut for the road?” 

It can’t be more than a twenty second walk back to his desk, but Bitty smiles and takes one anyway. 

“That was fast,” Larissa says when he comes back. She still hasn’t touched her donut.

Bitty wants to frown at her, but it’s too much work. “You sound disappointed. What, did you think I’d be gone longer?”

“Something like that,” Larissa says, and she saves her work and grabs her donut. 

“Okay, then.” He smiles down at his two donuts, and decides to save them for later.

  


  


  


Things really do feel like they go back to normal. Bitty should be surprised, but he isn’t; Kent had sounded so serious when he apologized, and he’s not avoiding Bitty at all or acting weird around him. 

Will and Derek seem to be finding a bit of middle ground for themselves, which makes things considerably less shouty in Bitty’s corner of the office, and Larissa does way too good of a job at pushing treats into Bitty’s hands at every hour of the day, and all in all it’s been a good week.

Bitty doesn’t think it’s possible for his heart to hold any more joy when Rachel calls him into a short meeting to let him know that Bandin, his favorite account by far, has just partnered with their office for another year-long contract, and that Bitty is going to be running point on any communications between them. “They’re big fans of you over there,” Rachel says. “Placing you at front and center is going to keep things running smoothly all year. You earned this, Eric.” 

He probably says thank you a thousand times, probably does a terrible job hiding the tears in his eyes, but he’s just so _happy_. Bitty exits the meeting with a few scraps of his dignity in tact and floats through the office in a blissful haze for the rest of the day. 

Larissa squeezes the information out of him, and the next morning he walks into what can only be described as a party -- well, a party that’s confined to his corner of the office. There are boxes full of flowers and candy, helium-filled balloons tied around his chair, and Will is blasting Beyonce from his laptop, which is a welcome change from the dad rock he sometimes plays.

“You guys!” Bitty yells, feeling like a cliche and loving it. “This is so beautiful, you didn’t have to do this!”

Derek is dancing wholeheartedly to “7/11”, and Larissa is unveiling -- is that a cake? It’s store-bought, but it’s gorgeous and thoughtful and there’s blue icing in a pretty cursive hand, congratulating him on his promotion, and wow. This is the first time Bitty actually realizes, on a technical level, that he’s being promoted, because being in charge of all communications for an account is above his current paygrade, and maybe he should have read Rachel’s email from last night more closely to figure out how big this raise is going to be.

“This is for you,” Larissa says, and she cuts him off a ginormous piece of cake. “You’re the hero of the loser’s corner.”

“No, you’re not losers,” Nathan says loudly, “you’re just paid less than everyone else. Except Will.” 

“Oh, Will, that sucks,” Derek says, condescendingly patting Will’s desk.

Will surveys him. “He means I get paid more than you guys. How would I be getting paid _less_ than you? You don’t even work full-time.”

“Whatever,” Derek pouts, and he comes over to get a slice of cake.

The cake slowly disappears, and Bitty’s coworkers slowly go back to their regular schedules, and Will switches the music to something old and terrible, with more electric guitars and manliness. 

_I love when he’s considerate of our shared workspace,_ Larissa texts the chat with Bitty and Derek, and Bitty smiles and turns his phone over. Sometimes Will gets so agitated that only loud music can calm him down, but Bitty is already thinking about buying some headphones for the office.

When Kent drops by and asks if anyone wants to join him and Nathan for lunch, Bitty practically launches himself out of his chair. “You want to come too?” he asks Larissa, since Derek’s already leaving for the day and Will likes to eat at his desk.

“Think I’m good,” she says. She’s been hoarding cake, so she’s probably not even hungry. “You have fun, though.”

Unsurprisingly, they head to the same restaurant as last time; they even sit at the same table, which Bitty privately thinks is hilarious. Bitty orders the same burger Kent recommended last time, and is gratified by Kent’s surprised smile.

“So,” Nathan says, after he downs half his soda in one go, “Bandin, huh? Nice going, Eric.”

It’s a little embarrassing to admit it to himself, but Bitty is just excited that Nathan is talking to him directly. Nathan always seemed like the type of hypermasculine business bro that would never do anything terrible, but who would always be vaguely intimidating to Bitty, even if he didn’t mean to be. “I couldn’t even believe it,” Bitty says, knowing he’s gushing but not able to stop himself. “I was trying to trust that everything would work out, and I was just happy to hear they got their contract extended, but I would never, ever have expected to be brought in like this.”

“Why?” Kent asks, playing with his straw and smiling up at Bitty. “They love you. They talk about you all the time.”

Bitty’s face feels very warm. “I don’t know about that.”

“Well, I do,” Kent says with a laugh. “I talked to several of their senior employees _and_ their CEO while we were getting the financials worked out, and every single one of them mentioned you. They have a whole fan club thing going.”

As Bitty stutters and fails to respond, Nathan starts shaking the table with excitement, almost spilling Bitty’s water. “Parse, did you humble-brag about yourself yet? How you saved Bandin from financial ruin or whatever?”

“I didn’t save them from anything, so no,” Kent mutters. He looks a little shifty, though, and Bitty glances at Nathan. “It was all pretty ordinary.”

“Bullshit,” Nathan snorts. “Staying past, what, seven? Eight? Every night for weeks? If that’s your ordinary job, you should quit and find a new job that doesn’t _suck_.”

“That’s not -- I stayed late sometimes! Never till eight, and only, like, three times a week.”

“Four.”

“...Four. But I never stayed until eight, I have _limits_.”

Nathan rolls his eyes, smiling at Bitty like he’s in on this somehow. “And that’s just standard business for you over in financial? That’s ordinary?”

Kent shifts in his seat, looking adorable and cranky and Bitty actually wants to cry for some reason? “It wasn’t a big deal. If we could have worked out their financial issues during normal office hours, we would have.”

“So you sacrificed your weeknights and single-handedly saved Bandin,” Nathan says triumphantly. “Like I said.”

“You’re an idiot,” Kent mutters sourly, and his cheeks are redder than they were a minute ago. “They’re an important account. Sometimes you do that stuff for good accounts.”

When their food comes a minute later, the conversation ends as they tear into their lunches. Bitty tries not to look at either of them, keeps catching himself looking at Kent, and goes back to staring at the table. He’s just -- his eyes are watery, and he doesn’t want them to see. 

He’s really glad that Bandin is okay, is all. Like Kent said, they’re an important account.

  


  


  


Bitty can only focus in short increments after that; he’s torn between wanting to sit back and marvel at his good luck and wanting to track Kent around the office and hear more about what he did to help Bandin. 

“You’re being weird,” Larissa says nonchalantly, and Bitty doesn’t actually know how much time has passed while he stares off into space. “I love it, though.”

“Oh, hush,” he murmurs, and decides to get up and grab some water. He needs something refreshing, or at least to clear his head. “And see if you can’t get Will to switch that to something more pleasant,” he whispers to Larissa as he passes her desk. The Billy Joel is starting to grate.

Larissa rolls her eyes. “He’s spiraling. Three accounts demanding he get their sites completely debugged by the end of the day. Just let him have Piano Man, yeah?”

Bitty nods in acquiescence and moves on. He’s not envious of Will’s responsibilities, and especially not of the way Will’s clients seem to always be angry and demanding with him. The comm major in Bitty knows this is largely due to Will’s abrasive communication style, and that the problem would mostly go away if Will modified his approach, but that’s not really Bitty’s business, now is it?

“You’ve got this,” he says to Will encouragingly as he walks past Will’s desk. Will groans and types faster.

Once the less than dulcet tones of Billy Joel have faded behind him, Bitty can feel that morning’s excitement seeping back into his veins. He’s going to have a big role in Bandin’s continued relationship with their office. He’s proven himself as a trusted liaison between their teams. He’s getting a _raise_.

He fills up a glass of water and moves out of the kitchen area. Some part of his mind thinks it might be a good idea to see if Kent’s free to talk. 

When Bitty’s standing at the entrance to the kitchen area, he can see into Kent’s office; the door is open and Kent is at his desk, leaning back in his chair, looking off to the side, and talking on the phone.

So -- not free to talk. Bitty stays where he is anyway, because he might as well drink his water here.

He can’t make out what Kent is saying, can only hear the indistinct sound of his voice as he talks on the phone. Probably talking about something boring, like money stuff that Bitty couldn’t even pretend to understand, but Bitty feels like watching anyway.

As Kent keeps talking, he worries absently at his cowlick, long fingers smoothing back blonde hair. Bitty thinks, as if from a distance, that Kent needs a haircut, and he thinks that the lines of Kent’s forehead and brow are beautiful, and he wants to interrupt Kent’s hand in its mission to mess up his hair any worse -- he wants to hold Kent’s hand, and to feel how warm it is. 

The immediacy of this desire prickles under Bitty’s skin until he can’t ignore it anymore, and he doesn’t understand -- at least, not in words -- why his heart is racing with anxiety, but he knows he needs to stop watching Kent. He retreats to the kitchen and sets his glass down on the counter.

He feels sick. He feels _wrong_. Bitty grips the edge of the counter and wonders if he’s going to faint. He stares down at his own hands, but all he can see is that image, burned into his mind, of Kent’s fingers in his hair.

 _That’s just because he’s attractive, objectively speaking,_ Bitty thinks desperately, but it’s not true and he doesn’t think it’s been true for awhile. 

_You have a crush on him_ , he admits to himself, but that feels like a bandaid on a gaping wound. Inadequate, almost insulting. 

Love is too big of a word for this feeling, but a crush is too small. He’s somewhere in that middle area, somewhere where he knows Kent better than he knows most people, even if very little of that understanding comes through face-to-face conversation; where he knows that his friendship with Kent has made both of them better people; where he thinks about Kent’s lips at his neck and loses the ability to breathe. 

“What is _wrong_ with me,” Bitty grits out, and starts washing up his drinking glass just to have something to do. He can’t want to be with Kent Parson. Up until recently he _hated_ Kent, and his friends and coworkers know he hated Kent, and Kent’s not exactly his boss, but he’s got seniority over Bitty, and Kent stood in this room just last week and said Bitty wasn’t his type.

Bitty really wishes he had his own office, because right now all he wants is to shut the door, lock it, and lie facedown on the floor for at least thirty minutes while shallow, sad Taylor Swift songs play around him. 

“Hey,” Kent says as Bitty walks past his office. His phone call must be over.

Bitty doesn’t look. He can’t look. “Hi,” he says, and walks away before Kent can answer. 

He needs this day to be over. He needs better taste in men.

He needs a new job.

He needs a new _life_.

Bitty grabs Larissa’s shoulder when he gets back to their corner. “Pub after work?” he asks. Begs, really.

Because what he really needs is a drink.

  


  


  


**Kent:**  
hey there stranger

 **Kent:**  
i have officially tried my hand at baking. all because of you. which means that the horrible burnt smell in my house is also technically because of you

 **Kent:**  
the failure is strong in this one  
[Image Attached]

 **Kent:**  
im sorry i desecrated the cheesecake. i know how you feel about cheesecake. please forgive me  & stop ignoring me, i’ll never do it again :(

 **Eric:**  
ha ha sorry

 **Eric:**  
there is a lot going on with that cheesecake. maybe you should try something simpler next time. like cookies?

 **Kent:**  
yeahhh 

**Kent:**  
i found this website for recipes that looked cool but i went to the expert section bc i thought it would be more exciting  & isnt baking just putting in the right ingredients? how can a cheesecake fail i just followed the recipe?

 **Eric:**  
oh honey

 **Kent:**  
:(

 **Kent:**  
you can’t see it but i am pouting at you right now and its very cute. tell me im an expert baker. 

**Eric:**  
i’m sure you’re very cute, but you’re no expert baker. start in the novice section next time, k. like i’ve said before, chocolate chip cookies are right up your alley.

 **Kent:**  
i feel like im being insulted but i don’t know enough about baking to understand it

 **Eric:**  
you’re cute

 **Kent:**  
maybe if you visit the boston area you can show me how to actually make a cheesecake. 

**Kent:**  
and i can woo you with my incredible chocolate chip cookies

 **Kent:**  
“no way these cookies were made by a NOVICE,” you’ll say

 **Eric:**  
in your dreams :)

 **Kent:**  
that’s true ;)

 **Eric:**  
well, i don’t have any upcoming plans to visit as of now. you’ll have to keep me updated with pictures, though. those make me happy :)

 **Kent:**  
glad to hear that :)

 **Eric:**  
i have some stuff going on tonight, so i have to go. enjoy scraping out that cake pan, you’re going to have to use some elbow grease to get out the charred remains :)

 **Kent:**  
now thats just mean

 **Eric:**  
bye hon

 **Kent:**  
bye beautiful

 **Eric:**  
you shameless flirt. you haven’t even seen my face. 

**Kent:**  
so??? 

**Eric:**  
well. goodbye. 

**Kent:**  
bye :)

  


  


  


Bitty takes an angry-nap after dinner, leaving his phone on silent because he can’t deal with anyone right now, and he especially can’t deal with Kent messaging him anymore. 

When Bitty wakes up, he thinks he might be dying. He feels like he’s suffocating, lungs slowly being crushed under -- oh. 

“I did _not_ invite you over here,” Bitty gasps out, trying and failing to shove Holster off of him. At least Holster’s wearing the new cologne Ransom bought for him; Bitty appreciates the little things in life.

Chowder squeezes in next to Bitty on the pull-out bed, and Holster rolls over a bit to spread his weight out on both of them. “We texted you a bunch,” Chowder offers. “And called. But I guess you were sleeping.”

Bitty wraps his arms and legs around Chowder and closes his eyes tight. He feels the mattress move when Ransom sits down on the corner. “I’m having a bad day,” he confesses, and he feels Chowder ruffle his hair. 

“You wanna watch a Disney movie?” Holster says.

Bitty shakes his head.

“Action movie?” Ransom offers.

“Ugh.”

Chowder scratches the top of Bitty’s head. “Maybe you could bake something? And we could share it together?”

Bitty pokes Chowder in the shoulder, hard. “No.”

Ransom elbows Holster until he gets off of Bitty, and then it starts to feel kind of weird to be lying down and whining like a kid, so Bitty pulls himself up into a sitting position and tries to blink awake. “I’m fine. Just needed to sleep it off,” he mumbles, and his mouth feels thick and sour. Bitty gets to his feet and hobbles to the sink so he can get a glass of water -- one of his legs is asleep, and it’s such a tiny annoyance, but he wants to scream anyway.

“I have something terrible to tell you,” Bitty says. He hadn’t necessarily planned on speaking, and he kind of regrets it now that it’s out there. “But maybe it can wait. What do you want me to bake, Chow?”

“Ooh, maybe scones would be --”

“ _No,_ ” Ransom says, standing up dramatically. He puts his hands in the air like he’s trying to stop traffic. “Eric. Richard. Bittle. We refuse to let you bake just to get out of telling us what’s making you feel bad. Right, Chowder?”

“...Right.”

Bitty sticks his hands in his back pockets, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and trying to look careless. “I think I’m good. Wanna play a boardgame?”

Holster sits up on the couch, his hair sticking up atrociously and his eyes narrowed. “Board game, my ass. What’s going on, Bitty?” 

For some reason, Bitty feels like he’s about to get in trouble with his parents. Or spark the beginning of some kind of celebration. Either way, he thinks there’s going to be a lot of yelling. “I have bad news,” he warns. It is bad news, sitting hot and urgent in his gut, because even though his feelings for Kent are almost overpowering in their warmth, he doesn’t think they can comfortably fit into his life.

“What is it, Bits?” Ransom asks, standing up and taking a step closer. He looks concerned, and Bitty realizes he needs to stop making it sound like his mom died or something.

He keeps his eyes on Ransom, because he thinks Ransom is probably the most reasonable person in this room. “I think I made a mistake. I was just standing there and I looked at him and now I don’t know what to do…” Bitty groans and wipes a hand across his eyes, frustrated and afraid to go on. 

“Looking at who?” Holster asks suspiciously. 

Bitty screws his mouth to the side and looks up at the ceiling. “I’m sorry. I don’t like it any more than you do. But I think I’m in love with Kent Parson.”

It’s not the most diplomatic way to phrase it, but Bitty thinks it might be true. He doesn’t want it to be true. He spent the car ride home telling himself that he definitely wasn’t in love, and he spent ten minutes messaging Kent and telling himself that he was only a little bit in love, and he spent the few minutes it took him to fall asleep telling himself that he would be able to stop being in love soon. 

But then he dreamed about being in a stupid canoe with stupid Kent Parson, and it was the most boring dream ever, but he’s in love head to toe and it’s ready to come bursting out of him. 

Ugh.

“Woah,” Ransom says, and then Chowder bounds over to Bitty to sweep him up in a hug, and Holster is staring at him with his jaw hanging slack. “Well, congrats, I guess? You don’t sound happy about it, though.”

“Because I’m _not_.” Bitty wriggles out of Chowder’s arms. “Do you think there’s a WikiHow on falling out of love with someone?”

Chowder giggles and pulls out his phone -- probably texting Farmer about this, because they’ve been gossiping about Bitty’s love life for too long -- and Holster immediately says, “Yes.”

“Don’t use a WikiHow article to get over him, god,” Ransom says. “Holster, pretend to be supportive here for ten seconds!”

“I am supportive,” Holster says sullenly. “Bitty wants to get over him; I’m helping. What, am I the only one who remembers all those stories about Kent? How he’s mean and homophobic?”

Bitty says, “He’s not mean,” at the same time that Chowder says, “But he’s, like, gay,” and Holster groans. 

“Okay.” Ransom holds up his hands again. It seems to be his go-to tactic tonight; the gesture isn’t helping anyone else calm down, so Bitty hopes it at least makes Ransom feel more in control. “Bitty. You sit down with Chowder. Chowder, stop texting Farmer about Bitty’s personal life; you can tell her later. Holster, we’re going to be awesome friends and bake Bitty something to help him feel better, so get up.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Bitty says, feeling guilty as he sits on the bed again, Chowder staying by his side. “What are y’all gonna make?”

“I don’t know,” Ransom says in that same authoritative tone. 

Holster pulls out his phone. “We’ll Google something.”

Bitty smiles and lets Chowder pull him over onto his side so they’re cuddling again. “Okay,” Chowder says, “do you want to tell me about Kent?”

“No,” Bitty says, “it’s too terrible.” He tells Chowder anyway, though, and he’s still talking an hour later when Holster and Ransom bring over a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last chapter will go up on saturday!! also i would like to personally curse the song "crying in the club" for making me write that club scene. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this chapter. everybody wang chung tonight, and please leave a comment if you liked it!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here we are!!!!! note that derek's vast sums of wealth are a shameless plot device early in this chapter. hope you enjoy :)

Bitty has a plan.

He’s going to stay in his little corner of the office, talk to Larissa and Derek, politely decline any invitations to lunch with Kent, and do his best to avoid any real conversations with Kent. Love isn’t a force of nature; he can starve it out and go back to seeing Kent as just a coworker and friend. 

Love is a choice. He chooses to not remain in love with someone with so much personal baggage for Bitty -- someone he used to hate, someone his friends have weird opinions about, someone he works with, someone who’s closeted with his own friends, someone Bitty continues to have secret, personal conversations with outside of work that he still feels guilty about.

Dating Kent would be a disaster. 

Bitty makes it for exactly two work days and the first five hours of the third work day before Kent pulls him aside. Well -- follows Bitty into the elevator, to be precise. 

There aren’t many things worse than being alone in an enclosed space with someone you resent being in love with, Bitty thinks. He gives Kent a polite smile and keeps his eyes forward.

“Hey, Eric,” Kent says. He sounds hesitant, and Bitty’s heart twists in his chest without his permission. 

“Hi,” he says back. He can’t help but give Kent a real smile this time, but he still forces himself to look away immediately. 

It’s hard to know what’s going on when he’s refusing to look at Kent, but Bitty thinks he’s successfully shut down any potential conversation. It hurts, like ripping off a bandaid -- if the bandaid were stapled down, that is -- but it’s what he has to do.

“Hey,” Kent says again, softer this time. Not soft like he’s trying to soothe or be gentle, but soft like he’s afraid to speak at all. “Is there something you’re mad at me for? Something I did?”

Bitty’s eyes dart over to Kent -- Kent, who is biting his lip, expression serious and schooled, with only a hint of hurt in his eyes. And Bitty is _instantly_ hit with an urge to touch Kent’s face and tell him ridiculously sweet things, which means that he is in serious trouble and is _not_ doing a good job of falling out of love.

“No, hon,” Bitty says quickly, then grits his teeth at the pet name that accidentally slipped out. “You’re good.” Kent’s expression doesn’t change, so Bitty adds, “I’ve just been sort of distracted. That’s all.”

Kent’s eyes flick down for a moment. “Is there something going on? If you want to talk about it, you can. I don’t know if I can help, but, you know.” 

“That’s so nice of you,” Bitty says, and his throat feels tight. “I think I’m okay, though. Just feeling a little under the weather.”

There’s still a little furrow of concern between Kent’s eyebrows, which Bitty thinks is actually unbearably cute, but Kent doesn’t question him any further, and Bitty escapes when the elevator doors open.

In hindsight, he thinks, this plan was kind of awful. He _has_ to keep being friends with Kent at work, because it’s unprofessional to ignore him. It disrupts the workplace. And it sucks. 

When Bitty returns to the office, he sees Kent over in their corner, talking to Derek about something. _It’s cool,_ Bitty tells himself as reassuringly as he can, and he quietly makes his way over to his own desk.

“You staying late today?” Bitty asks Kent when he and Derek are done talking. 

Kent looks surprised, which makes Bitty feel guilty, but he smiles right away. “No later than usual. So, yeah. Why?”

“Um, no reason,” Bitty says, shrugging a little awkwardly. He can feel his face getting warm. “I was just wondering.” 

“Good,” Kent smiles back, and that makes no sense, but he waves and goes back to his office, and Bitty rubs his fingers self-consciously and waits to stop blushing. 

Larissa is watching him, the first hints of amusement in her eyes. He doesn’t want to know what she’s thinking, or what she’s figured out. Bitty gives her his best _back off_ look and throws himself into his work.

On Friday, Bitty grinds his teeth through forty minutes of Will’s awful seventies rock music, and Larissa throws balled-up paper at Will to no avail, and Derek lets out louder and louder frustrated noises, until Kent comes over and changes the music to Rihanna while Will is grabbing pretzels from the snack table.

“I was never here,” Kent tells them, and Bitty literally can’t stop smiling, even after Kent leaves. 

Will comes back and glares at all of them, but he just turns the music off and sulks at his desk.

Bitty’s still smiling. 

“Are you --”

“Don’t start,” he tells Larissa sternly.

  


  


  


**Eric:**  
having a good weekend?

 **Kent:**  
hell yeah

 **Kent:**  
my friends went camping and i weaseled my way out of it

 **Kent:**  
so while they’re sleeping on the ground and peeing in the woods and encountering spiders, im watching arrested development  & eating a salad

 **Eric:**  
you eat salad?

 **Kent:**  
yeah like im not an animal?? its good for me. nutritious 

**Eric:**  
aw, k. you make me smile.

 **Kent:**  
because i eat salad?

 **Eric:**  
no, you just do. i like you a lot.

 **Kent:**  
oh. i like you a lot too.

 **Kent:**  
not to be dramatic but it might be one of the worst things that ever happened to me when you moved to new york

 **Kent:**  
i just didn’t know it at the time.

 **Eric:**  
i don’t know what to say. 

**Eric:**  
but i really wish things didn’t work out this way either.

 **Kent:**  
i like talking to you more than anyone. 

**Kent:**  
actually i don’t think ive used tinder at all since you left

 **Kent:**  
jk i think i used it once but that fizzled out and i never even met him 

**Kent:**  
well not that i met you either

 **Kent:**  
sorry if im saying too much.

 **Eric:**  
you’re good, babe.

 **Eric:**  
dating is really hard. i know i haven’t been on many dates recently either. 

**Eric:**  
if things were better, i would probably want to date you. just so you know.

 **Kent:**  
oh 

**Eric:**  
:)

 **Eric:**  
but since we’re so far apart, we have to do our best. especially you! it’s important to have fun and date a little when you’re coming out. are you at least trying?

 **Kent:**  
im trying. like a little.

 **Kent:**  
its weird tho since like ive already sorta said, i have feelings for you, and it just feels weird to be interested in other guys

 **Eric:**  
it’s okay. i’ve been having a tough time getting out there too. but you are interested in someone?

 **Kent:**  
yeah 

**Kent:**  
NOT that it’s going anywhere. but yeah.

 **Eric:**  
that’s good, though! tell me about him! :)

 **Kent:**  
idk. i work with him. 

**Kent:**  
i don’t really want to talk about that with you though it’s weird

 **Eric:**  
oh. it wasn’t even appropriate of me to ask, so i’m sorry. 

**Kent:**  
no i mean its ok to ask, i just feel weird telling you about it when i like you too. but like we were saying thats not really the point of this  & its good for us to just be friends. maybe i’ll tell you about him later

 **Kent:**  
when there’s actually something to tell lol

**Eric:**  
i hope so :)

  


  


  


Bitty is aware that his entire life is a mess. 

He can accept that his existence is doomed to be frustrating and often unfulfilling; he wishes he could stop chatting with Kent, stop being deceptive; he wishes he could have Kent. He wishes, sometimes, that he could find a time machine, never swipe right on that stupid picture of a guy with amazing abs and DL in his bio, so he could hate Kent uncomplicatedly like he used to. At night, he wishes Kent’s hands were on him. In the morning, he wishes Kent’s toothbrush could be next to his, that Kent could kiss the top of his head when Bitty’s still too sleepy to talk.

It’s a mess.

After Bitty gets back from his lunch break, he stops by Kent’s office to see if Kent wants Bitty’s boxed-up leftovers, since he knows Kent’s working extra hard today and probably hasn’t taken his own break yet. 

“Oh,” Kent says, blinking up at Bitty from his monitor screen, eyes still a little glazed over. “Is it lunchtime?”

“Yes,” Bitty says, and he has to physically constrict his throat to stop himself from slipping out the word _hon._ “My lo mein’s yours if you want it. I couldn’t eat another bite.”

“Oh,” Kent says again. His eyes finally focus. “I can’t take your food.”

“Hmm,” Bitty says, and he sets the box down on Kent’s desk. “Guess I forgot it here then.” He glances down and -- what on earth is Kent wearing on his feet? It takes a few seconds for Bitty to make sense of the pattern on Kent’s socks, but once he figures out that Kent’s wearing cat socks, he starts cracking up laughing.

Kent stares at him, then looks down at his own feet. “That’s -- whatever,” he says, tugging his slacks down to hide his socks and sliding his feet further under his desk. “Sometimes I buy socks from Target’s dollar section, shut up,” he mumbles, but he’s laughing too, even if his face is heating up.

“I’m not commenting on that,” Bitty says, and he pushes the box of lo mein toward Kent as a reminder to eat before booking it out of there. He feels warm all over, and he keeps seeing Kent’s blush and his embarrassed smile, and Bitty realizes there isn’t a single part of him that regrets being in love now. 

That’s probably an unfortunate development, but Bitty doesn’t even care when he catches himself humming “Love on Top” for the rest of the afternoon.

  


  


  


**Ransom** 5:59 pm  
bitsssss you wanna come out with us?? monday night drinks!!!!

 **Bitty** 6:00 pm  
i’m in love, i’m in love and i don’t care who knows it

 **Farmer** 6:00 pm  
YEAH WE KNOW

 **Ransom** 6:00 pm  
oh elf??

 **Bitty** 6:01 pm  
he’s so cute…….. :(

 **Holster** 6:01 pm  
Will Ferrell?

 **Bitty** 6:01 pm  
>:(

 **Chowder** 6:01 pm  
bitty!!!!!!! 

**Farmer** 6:02 pm  
You’d better be coming out for drinks now. 

**Ransom** 6:02 pm  
bitty just kiss him already

 **Bitty** 6:02 pm  
like i don’t want to?? but i CAN’T.

 **Holster** 6:02 pm  
Bitty I can set you up with literally anyone else. I know lots of gay and bi guys who are NICE and OUT and NOT YOUR BOSS

 **Chowder** 6:03 pm  
kent’s not his boss tho

 **Bitty** 6:03 pm  
he’s not even my boss!!

 **Farmer** 6:03 pm  
Nice teamwork.

 **Holster** 6:04 pm  
Am I wrong in thinking he has seniority over you

 **Ransom** 6:04 pm  
maybe bitty likes that ;)

 **Bitty** 6:04 pm  
he does officially, but i don’t think he has the power to fire me. 

**Farmer** 6:04 pm  
RANSOM KAJKJDS;F

 **Holster** 6:04 pm  
Oh GOOD he can’t fire you. It would be totally equal and healthy then.

 **Bitty** 6:05 pm  
are y’all really just sitting at the bar together texting me? sad. 

**Ransom** 6:05 pm  
nice deflection 

**Chowder** 6:05 pm  
we are, but tbh we’re also kind of roasting you out loud. which is why you need to join us so you can defend yourself!

 **Bitty** 6:05 pm  
tbh i’m not surprised.

 **Bitty** 6:07 pm  
if you’re trying to give me the silent treatment, i’m not even bothered. 

**Holster** 6:07 pm  
Sorry we were harassing Chowder for being a traitor and telling on us.

 **Chowder** 6:07 pm  
bitty come save me, they’re being mean :(

 **Bitty** 6:08 pm  
FINE. and feel free to roast me as much as you want, i won’t even care.

 **Farmer** 6:08 pm  
Is that the power of love?

 **Bitty** 6:08 pm  
it just might be.

 **Holster** 6:08 pm  
Ugh.

 **Ransom** 6:09 pm  
just…... kiss him. get it over with i am begging u

 **Farmer** 6:09 pm  
Dude Chowder and Holster are already getting sloppy drunk. Hurry up.

 **Bitty** 6:09 pm  
ok 

**Ransom** 6:09 pm  
ok to whom??

**Ransom** 6:09 pm  
WHO ARE YOU SAYING OK TO????

 **Farmer** 6:09 pm  
Just let him leave the nest. It’s time.

 **Ransom** 6:10 pm  
no i will, i’m just excited and i wanna see him make out with his boss

 **Holster** 6:10 pm  
You’re all literally the reason I drink.

  


  


  


On a perfectly ordinary Wednesday, Derek decides it’s time for Christmas in the office, even though it’s summer, and he brings gifts for everyone. Wrapped and everything. 

He tries to keep it a secret that he’s the one who bought everything, but since he didn’t even remember to buy himself a gift, it’s kind of obvious.

“Maybe it was Will,” Derek says when Larissa points out this obvious slip. “He doesn’t like me enough to get me a present.”

“I’m not rich,” Will says shortly. 

Derek looks at everyone else conspiratorially. “He’s not denying it.”

“Well, thank you very much for these,” Bitty says, examining the set of three aprons Derek had gotten him. “This is so sweet, but what’s the occasion?”

Derek shrugs, then scowls. “I don’t --”

“You shrugged,” Larissa says. “No denying it. Not that we didn’t already know, but still.”

Will looks at the clearly expensive headphones Derek had gotten him, eyes narrowing. 

As the rest of the office looks over their gifts and thanks Derek awkwardly -- he has to stand on a chair and loudly announce that no one needs to get anything in return, he just did it because he thought it would be fun -- Bitty drifts over to the wall where Kent’s standing. “What did he get you?” Bitty asks, glancing at the gift bag in Kent’s hands.

“New shirt,” Kent says, lifting the corner of his mouth in a smile. “He told me it’s my color, which I’m trying not to interpret as an insult against what I usually wear.”

“I doubt that,” Bitty says without thinking about it. “You usually look really good.” He knows by the time he’s halfway through the sentence that he’s making things weird, but he says it anyway, then makes what has to be an awkward face, slightly horrified with himself. “Like. I mean. There’s nothing wrong with the shirts you already have.”

Kent grins at him, then glances down at his own shirt. “So you’re saying gray’s my color, too?”

“Well….” Bitty can feel himself blushing. He’d be embarrassed, but there’s something in Kent’s expression that tells him Kent thinks it’s cute. “You do wear a lot of neutrals. What does Derek think your color is?”

“Very diplomatic,” Kent laughs, but he shows Bitty the shirt. It’s a calm, light green, like spring. Bitty is of the opinion that Kent would look very good in it. 

He’s not sure he could handle the experience, actually. Maybe he should find out, for the sake of science. “You should try it on.”

Kent looks at him, equally open and uncertain for a moment. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bitty says, mouth dry. “No one’s getting any work done now anyway. Go change in the bathroom down there?” He nods down the hall, where there’s a single-stall bathroom around the corner in a little hallway by itself. 

“Why not,” Kent says with a shrug, regaining a bit of his normal confidence. He nudges Bitty with his elbow. “You’ll tell me if it’s really my color?”

Bitty laughs weakly. “Right. No sugarcoating from me.”

When Kent disappears into the bathroom, Bitty is left to contemplate every life choice that brought him here. And to worry that someone will find him alone in the bathroom hallway, but no one ever comes here unless they need the bathroom, and there’s a way nicer one with multiple stalls out by the elevator, so he’s probably fine. 

He is very aware that Kent is literally about to model for him. Just because Bitty asked him to.

When Kent finally comes out, Bitty knows his face gives him away. Because -- wow. Kent can pull of anything, which is why it never even occurred to Bitty that Kent wears too many neutral shades, but this soft green is really something else. It brings out the golden undertone in his skin, a little of the green Bitty hadn’t even realized was in Kent’s eyes, and his hair is absolutely beautiful. Unfair from head to toe, Bitty thinks, and he gives Kent a shaky smile. “I think Derek knows what he’s talking about.” 

“You like it, huh?” Kent smiles, or smirks, Bitty doesn’t even know; he just knows he could drown in that stupid face. “Feel how soft it is, too.”

This is just too blatant. Bitty used to have more class than this, but _used to_ is the operative phrase here, and he eagerly reaches out to run his hand over Kent’s shoulder, feeling the soft fabric and the hard muscle underneath. “Oh, yeah.” He knows he should retract his hand now, but he doesn’t. “Nice.”

Kent opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He laughs in a slightly hysterical exhale of nervous energy, purses his lips together and tries again. “Yeah,” is all he ends up saying, and Bitty feels a little thrill to know he’s actually having an effect on Kent.

Which is stupid. Because Kent already told him that he likes someone at work, and Bitty _knew_ it was him. 

_You are weaving a very tangled web,_ he thinks at himself, because he doesn’t know how he can possibly turn this situation into the outcome he wants, and because he might have watched She’s the Man a hundred times when he was in middle school.

 _Yeah,_ he thinks back, because he has to. _Like, really, really tangled._

He manages to pull his hand away, though. “I’m gonna go ahead and declare this shirt a winner,” he says, smiling up at Kent. “Now if only you’ll break out of your gray shell and actually wear it to work.”

Kent’s expression changes, and for a second Bitty really, really thinks Kent is going to move forward and kiss him. But he doesn’t. He just smiles, rubbing at his nose awkwardly, and then glances down at Bitty’s gift bag. “You got aprons, right?”

“Um.” Bitty wonders if he’s going to be asked to model them. “Yes.”

“Do you cook?” Kent asks, carefully taking one of the aprons out and unfolding it. “Oh, this is great. Flowers.” 

“Good observation,” Bitty says, smiling sweetly, and smiling bigger when Kent makes a jokingly offended face. The apron is indeed floral, and Bitty thinks he’s going to look very good in it. “I like this one.”

Kent hands the apron back to Bitty. “You should try it on. It’s only fair.”

The very first thought in Bitty’s head is that he should model the apron for Kent wearing the apron and _only_ the apron, Titanic-style, but that is a horrible thought that he pushes away. For the time being. “Well, I suppose.” He puts the top loop over his head and straightens out the front of the apron. “If you insist.” Bitty grabs one string in each hand, reaching behind his back to tie it. It’s not exactly a _difficult_ task, but he puts on a pained expression anyway.

“You want me to tie it for you?” Kent asks, and Bitty smiles. He turns around and arches his back a little before he can stop himself -- but _sue_ him, he wants his ass to look good if Kent’s going to be looking right at it. He feels a gentle tugging at the strings, and then Kent’s using his hands to turn Bitty back around. “I -- I like it,” he says, and Bitty is gratified to see that Kent is _very_ affected by the sight of Bitty in a cute little apron.

“Yeah?” he replies, letting his voice go sweet and thick like syrup. “You can see me cooking in it?”

It is an absolute pleasure to watch Kent’s face as he processes that image. “Mm-hm,” he manages, and he still hasn’t let go of the apron string with one of his hands. 

Bitty is trying to figure out what the best plan is -- kiss Kent now and explain everything later; resist the temptation so he has a chance to sit Kent down privately and tell him about the whole Tinder debacle before they do anything -- when he hears people walking closer to them, and that settles the question, at least for now. Bitty reaches back and takes Kent’s hand off the apron string, shifting his fingers briefly so he can feel Kent’s skin under him, and then lets go. “I guess I’d better get back to work,” he says, smiling and stepping away.

“Yeah,” Kent says, and his eyes are still laser-focused on Bitty’s face. 

“Are you gonna keep wearing that, or are you changing back?”

Kent glances down. “Help me get the sticker off?”

That’s the kind of thing Kent could easily do himself, but Bitty supposes it’s only fair after Kent tied his apron for him. He rests one hand on Kent’s chest to keep the shirt still, then carefully peels the sizing sticker off the front of Kent’s shirt with his other hand. “There,” Bitty says. “You’re good.”

Kent squeezes Bitty’s hand, then drops it. “Thanks.” He keeps looking down at Bitty, biting his lip for a moment, but then he shakes it off and smiles again. “Don’t forget to take your apron off.”

“Don’t forget your tag,” Bitty says, looking down, and Kent gently bumps into him as he walks out of their little hallway.

  


  


  


**Kent:**  
eric i’m literally going to die alone

 **Eric:**  
this seems dramatic. and out of nowhere. and very unlikely.

 **Eric:**  
you’re funny, interesting, smart, successful, and hot. not the biggest contender to die alone.

 **Kent:**  
thanks 

**Kent:**  
but i meant die ALONE, not die without any dates or relationships. i know i have all the right ingredients to get people interested ;) ;)

 **Kent:**  
its more “not ruining the relationship within 2 months” that im not sure i will ever be capable of

 **Eric:**  
okay. i’m sorry, i didn’t realize you really meant it. 

**Eric:**  
why do you feel that way? 

**Kent:**  
i don’t know if it’s my natural personality or a thing from being closeted for so long but im like physically incapable of being emotional with other people. i mean i get why i do it with casual friends but even with people who i know care about me i can’t say what im feeling

 **Eric:**  
you tell me what you’re feeling all the time. and i’m sure it’s much harder with people you know in real life, but you’ll get there. 

**Eric:**  
what are you scared of? or, why do you feel like you can’t be real with people?

 **Kent:**  
well a lot of the time i dont feel like im being fake at all, but i guess because my normal personality isn’t very emotional it makes me feel weird when i want to actually have feelings, because i think other people won’t understand it

 **Kent:**  
especially bc when i AM emotional, i feel like it’s more intense than normal. and i don’t even mean bad emotions, i mean like when i want to tell someone i love them or something. i think if i really said and did everything i wanted it would be really overbearing and they wouldn’t even like it, and i don’t ALWAYS handle rejection super well

 **Eric:**  
yeah, i can understand how that would make expressing your feelings scary. 

**Eric:**  
but don’t you think the people you love would feel good if you showed them how much you care? 

**Kent:**  
no they’d probably think it was weird or annoying

 **Eric:**  
sweetheart, i can guarantee that you can share what you’re feeling with me any time you want to, and i’ll never be annoyed. and there are more people who would agree with me than you’d believe. anyone with a brain in their head would feel lucky to know that you care about them.

 **Kent:**  
i wish you were here

 **Eric:**  
i wish i could be with you too, k. i promise. 

**Kent:**  
how tall are you?

 **Eric:**  
well, moving right along, then. shorter than you, let’s just say that. 

**Kent:**  
good :)

 **Kent:**  
if you were here i would hold you for like 2 hours without letting go

 **Kent:**  
which i guess is kind of what i meant when i said im annoying

 **Eric:**  
well, i wouldn’t let go for THREE hours, so who’s the annoying one now??

 **Kent:**  
ahhh i love you

 **Kent:**  
oh shit i’m sorry i didn’t mean it like that

 **Kent:**  
shit my bad like that’s kind of exactly what i was talking about before

 **Eric:**  
you don’t need to apologize, it’s okay.

 **Eric:**  
and maybe those particular words would be out of place in this context, since there are a lot of ways we don’t really know each other. but i want you to know that you’re important to me too. and that i feel differently about you than i do about anyone else.

 **Kent:**  
oh 

**Kent:**  
well you already know how i feel about you. 

**Kent:**  
and i really wish you were here.

  


  


  


As the days go by, Bitty can feel himself becoming more and more clingy -- he spends an absurd amount of time at work talking to Kent or walking past Kent’s office, and he chats on his phone with Kent for at least a couple hours after work every day. 

It’s ridiculous. 

He can’t stop. 

Bitty also doesn’t know how much longer he can take not being able to _be_ with Kent, especially when they’re getting so much closer and he knows Kent wants him too. He just doesn’t know how to overcome the terrifying obstacle of telling Kent that he’s the same Eric that Kent met on Tinder, and he knows he has to tell him eventually if he wants anything further to happen. It’s already hard enough lying to Kent about this; Bitty wouldn’t be able to _date_ him and keep it a secret, and he wouldn’t want to. 

He thinks the best way to tell Kent would probably be to wait another two weeks, when Kent is going to take a five-day business trip with Rachel to Chicago. Bitty should message a long, honest explanation and apology to Kent, and hopefully Kent will be able to forgive him and be okay with it by the time he gets back. 

If he can’t, Bitty might die. Or quit his job. 

And he doesn’t know if he can wait two weeks. Now that he knows how he feels, and now that it’s obvious how Kent feels, every minute without him feels like torture. It’s so tempting to just go for it, but Bitty knows he needs to let the rational part of his mind take control on this one. 

Two weeks is so far away, but it’s also frighteningly close. Bitty drafts and redrafts his apology, and he goes to bed with too much of it still in his head, and it’s hard to sleep because his heart feels weak and shaky like a rabbit’s. _What if, what if, what if,_ he can’t stop thinking, and he only falls asleep when he caves in and pours himself a half-dosage of Nyquil. 

He feels more like himself at work, though. Sometimes, he feels _better_ than himself, like being with Kent, making Kent laugh and watching Kent’s eyes soften toward him is drawing Bitty into something _more_. 

Bitty goes out for lunch with Larissa, and she invites Kent along with a sidelong glance at Bitty. Maybe a week ago he would have glared at her for that, but now he just smiles back and takes every opportunity to sit closer to Kent. Larissa keeps bumping her foot into Bitty’s under the table, and he refuses to feel even slightly embarrassed.

When they get back to the office, Larissa stops by the snack table because apparently she’s not full even after the three slices of pizza she just ate. “Cookie?” she offers Bitty, and he shakes his head, then laughs when Kent takes it. 

“My boyfriend’s bringing a dog home tonight,” Larissa says idly as they lean against the wall and postpone getting back to work. “I’m excited, but I’m also lowkey bitter that we’re skipping the puppy stage, you know?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kent advises. “I missed my cat’s kitten stage, and I’ve honestly never felt like it was a big deal. You’ll figure each other out.”

“How long have you had Kit, anyway?” Bitty asks. He also wants to ask how many pairs of cat socks Kent has, but that can wait for another time.

Kent considers this for a moment. “I guess -- four years? Feels like longer, though.”

“This probably is a sign that our relationship is getting serious,” Larissa says, sounding just a little overwhelmed. “We’re going to have this dog for _years_. This dog is like an engagement ring. Or a child.” She puts her cookie down for a moment. “Oh my god, what is he trying to tell me with this dog?”

Bitty laughs, shaking his head, and then he notices that Kent has gone too quiet next to him, and that Kent is staring back at Bitty with a growing expression of horror.

“How long do dogs even live?” Larissa asks, and then Kent pushes off the wall and practically runs out the door to the elevator. “Um, goodbye?”

Bitty isn’t sure what’s going on, but his stomach hurts and he can still see the way Kent had been looking at him before he left. Like Bitty was doing something to hurt him, even if Bitty has no idea why. 

“What’s his deal?” Larissa asks, and then Bitty remembers. 

Kent named his cat after himself. 

He doesn’t tell people that at work.

And he never told Bitty what his cat’s name was. He told a different Eric, one who lives in New York. 

“Are you okay?” Larissa asks, moving closer and carefully laying a hand on Bitty’s shoulder. “Bitty. Breathe.” 

“I --” He doesn’t know what to say. He tries to breathe. This was supposed to be his problem in two weeks, not _today_. Kent wasn’t supposed to figure it out by himself. Kent wasn’t supposed to be freaking Sherlock Holmes putting together clues, what the hell was that, anyway? “I ruined everything,” he hears himself say, hollow and far away.

Larissa considers him for a moment. “And?”

He can’t look at her. 

“Are you just going to stand there and feel sorry for yourself?” Larissa demands, poking him none too gently in the ribs. “Go after him.”

Bitty looks at her.

“Go,” she says again. She’s looking at him like he’s an idiot, but in a kind way. “What are you waiting for?”

He has his keys in his pocket. He has his phone, but he doesn’t know where Kent’s going and he doesn’t think Kent would answer him right now. “Can you cover for me?” he asks, as the world starts moving around him again.

“I’ll handle it,” Larissa says. “Now _go_. Whatever you did, just go find him.”

Bitty thinks he might have bitten off more than he can chew with this one, but he loves Kent, and he’s the one who screwed things up, so he doesn’t have a choice. “Okay,” he says. “I’m going.”

  


  


  


Bitty sits in his car and tries not to cry. He doesn’t know what to do.

He should probably message Kent, but he has absolutely no idea what to say to make this better. He needs to _find_ Kent, but Bitty doesn’t even know where Kent lives. Running after Kent had seemed like the right thing to do, but it means nothing if Bitty can’t even track him down.

He has no idea where Kent would go.

But then, he does. At least he thinks he does.

Bitty scrolls through their old conversations, gritting his teeth and blinking tears back -- god, they talk to each other so much, he can’t lose this -- until he finds what he’s looking for. Kent’s happy place, the park he goes to when he needs to calm down. 

There. Franklin Park. Bitty programs it into his phone GPS and starts driving. He has no idea what he’ll do when he finds Kent, but the first step is just getting there. Kent has to see -- he has to know that Bitty cares, that Bitty wants him. What to say, how to say it, everything else -- it all comes second.

  


  


  


That’s easier said than done. Bitty drives, and listens to his GPS, and tries to see the road through his tears. He can feel his breathing turn ragged, pulling at his lungs and leaving his throat raw. 

Bitty’s whole body pulses under the skin with everything he’s feeling. He can live with it if Kent doesn’t want him back, or if Kent _can’t_ want him back now that he knows what Bitty did. He can live with it if Kent hates him, because Bitty knows he’d deserve it. 

What he can’t live with is causing real harm to Kent. Bitty has always been the person who helps people, makes people feel loved and taken care of, and he’s not sure he’d ever forgive himself if he caused _anyone_ to be in pain, but especially not a man he’s in love with. 

Bitty thinks about how Kent might feel, how his inner life is a mess of privacy and shame and fear that Bitty is only just beginning to understand, and he gasps a little as he’s driving, short sobs that he gets under control quickly. 

There are some mistakes that saying “I love you” won’t fix, and Bitty thinks he’s been past that point from the moment he chose to keep messaging Kent after Bitty found out who he really was. 

_But I do love you,_ Bitty thinks, and he doesn’t bother to wipe his eyes.

  


  


  


When Bitty parks his car, he’s heartened to see that Kent’s car is also in the parking lot. Then he’s terrified. He checks their messages one more time, scrolling up to read the few conversations where Kent mentioned coming here, but nothing’s changed. The only detail Kent had shared is that he likes to go to a pond somewhere in the park.

Bitty’s parked right by the zoo, which he figures he can skip over, since there’s still a lot of park land not contained within the zoo. He gets on the walking path, which seems like it loops through the whole park, and picks a direction to walk at random. 

The park is beautiful, and even though Bitty still feels desperate and worried, he notices that he’s a degree calmer by the time he walks through the tunnel under a stone arch bridge. There are other people enjoying the park, but not many, and Bitty still hasn’t seen a pond. He’s stopped crying, at least, but he can feel that his eyes are puffy, and there are probably tear-tracks on his face, which makes it hard to meet people’s eyes. 

Bitty keeps walking, and he thinks by now he’s getting close to finishing the loop, and he can feel his stomach twisting with fear. Kent might have left already. And Bitty doesn’t know what he’ll do if he doesn’t find Kent, if he has to wait until tomorrow to speak to Kent face-to-face.

There -- he follows the path as it winds around a bend, and there’s a pond. A wide bridge crosses its surface, and Bitty can see more people up ahead -- mostly families, but some people by themselves, too. Bitty’s heart suddenly feels like it’s too big for his chest, and he nearly breaks into a run as he hurries to get to the bridge.

A family of three moving slowly, an elderly couple leaning against the bridge rails, a man sketching the pond. Bitty doesn’t see Kent anywhere, not on the bridge or on the hill overlooking the pond, and he tries to blink away the fresh tears coming to his eyes.

Bitty moves to lean against the handrail of the bridge, looking out at the pond and surrounding trees in an attempt to calm down and let his emotions settle.

And Kent’s right there.

He’s a stone’s throw away, off the path and sitting on a stretch of grass right next to the water, the long, stooped branches of trees almost concealing him from view. Kent’s chin is propped up on his knees as he stares out at the water; he’s a glimpse of a person behind the green. 

When Bitty was still searching for Kent, there had been a certain corner of his mind that had been planning a dramatic gesture -- shouting Kent’s name, running through the shallows of the pond as some unquestionable way of demonstrating his love. 

But Kent looks so small, and Bitty knows absolutely that he would just be making things worse to call attention to Kent right now. So Bitty crosses the bridge, then slips down to the water’s edge, where he carefully picks his way to the open area where Kent is resting. 

There’s not really a way for Bitty to disguise the sound of his approach, and soon enough Kent hears his footsteps and glances over. Immediately, Kent jumps to his feet, backing up fast to put more distance between them. Something like fear is on his face, and then Kent’s nothing but a mask of wary suspicion. 

“Kent,” Bitty says. He’s never felt more inadequate for a task. “I’m so sorry. Can I tell you what happened?”

“What _happen_ \--” Kent starts to say, his voice a snarl, but then he clenches his jaw and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he looks vacant. “Sure. Go ahead.”

Bitty doesn’t know how to start, but he figures he might as well touch on the most important things first. “I care about you a lot, and I didn’t mean to do anything to hurt you. I’m so sorry. I --” Bitty steeples his fingers over his mouth, gets his breathing under control, and tries to make things clear. Now is _not_ the time to let himself babble. He’s probably gonna do it on accident anyway, though. “I didn’t know who you were when we were talking on Tinder, but I really liked talking to you. I was excited to meet you, and I thought your cat mug thing was really funny even though I gave you a hard time about it. When I went to meet you -- I didn’t know it was you, I swear, and when I got there, you didn’t see me. But I saw you, and I saw your cat mug, and you hadn’t told any of us at work yet that you’re gay, and I didn’t want that to be how you were forced to start that particular conversation with me.” Bitty bites his lip, and figures he might as well be completely honest now. “Plus I didn’t like you much back then. But the main thing is that I was surprised to see you, obviously, since I didn’t know you were gay, and I knew you’d be upset if you knew that I knew, so I ran away.” 

Already, Kent looks surprised; more vulnerable and less defensive. “You were there?”

“Yeah, hon, of course I came,” Bitty says, and he wishes he could take back the pet name. God knows he hasn’t earned it. “And after, I told you that story about moving to New York because I knew we had to stop talking now that I knew who you were, but I didn’t want you to think I stood you up on purpose and feel sad about that. I really thought we were ending things there.”

Kent blushes. He’s obviously remembering why things _didn’t_ end there, how he’d been so vulnerable and sad when Bitty ignored him.

“And I’m so sorry that I didn’t -- I don’t know,” Bitty says, voice breaking. “I don’t know what I should have done. But I was trying to, like, ghost you after the fake move, so you’d move on and it could just be in the past, but I felt so bad when you explained that you needed someone to talk to, and that you didn’t really have other gay people in your life? I don’t know if that’s a good enough reason to explain what I did, but I really wanted to help you. That’s why I started talking to you again, Kent. I was never laughing at you, or doing anything on purpose to hurt you. I definitely made some mistakes along the way, but I was there because I wanted to help you.”

“You did help me,” Kent says, calm in a way that seems false. “I guess I should apologize for -- well, you know. Flirting with you. You signed up to be my friend, and I pushed too far. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Bitty can’t understand what Kent is talking about, and then when he does understand it makes his skin prickle with empathy. “No, Kent,” he chokes out. He resolutely keeps his eyes locked on Kent’s. “No. I love you.”

Kent’s face crumples for a moment, and he backs up another half-step. Like he can’t believe it.

“I’m --” Bitty can feel his face heating up, and he rubs at his eyes self-consciously. “I’m sorry if that crosses a line. I don’t want to make this worse for you. But I really, really love you. You’re so smart, and good at your job, and -- Kent, you are so caring, I don’t know if you even understand that about yourself, but you never made me feel like I was the only one giving, or that I was unappreciated, and you always asked how you could help me, and that means so much to me, you have no idea. I love you, and I want to always be able to make you feel better and feel understood, but you’re the first man I’ve ever met who I can trust to do the same thing for me. And I know that what I did might make it impossible for you to trust me, and now that you know how much I lied to you I’ll understand if you can’t like me or respect me anymore, but I have to tell you.” Bitty feels like he might fall over; he can barely breathe. “I love you so much, Kent. It kind of sucks, but I love you, and if you give me the chance I’ll choose to keep loving you and keep being there for you as long as you want me to.”

Kent’s face hasn’t changed, apart from looking more and more like he’s going to cry, and he finally takes a few steps closer to Bitty. He breathes out heavily and messes with his hair almost violently. “Are you sure?”

Bitty lets out a surprised laugh, and the movement pushes out a few stray tears. “Of course, honey,” he says, and he reads Kent’s body language enough to judge that he can move closer. Bitty hugs Kent cautiously, and Kent just falls into it, pressing his face against Bitty’s hair as Bitty rubs between Kent’s shoulder blades with one hand.

“Um,” Kent says, his fingers tightening on Bitty’s shoulders, “I think I love you too.”

“Oh, good,” Bitty says nonsensically, and he starts crying in earnest. He hears Kent sniffle, so close and loud next to Bitty’s ear, and he starts laughing again, hiccuping a little. “We’re both a couple’a messes,” he manages to get out, and then he loses all powers of speech when Kent brushes his hand through Bitty’s hair and tilts his head a few inches back.

The sunlight captures the freckles on Kent’s nose, and Bitty feels blinded by it. “Can I?” Kent whispers, and Bitty answers by surging up to kiss him.

It’s probably not the most romantic first kiss in the world; they’re both still a little weepy, and Bitty is very aware that the elderly couple he saw on the bridge might be watching them kiss. But Kent’s hands on Bitty’s face are tender to the point of reverence, and Bitty appreciates the little gasp Kent lets out when Bitty sucks on Kent’s bottom lip for a few seconds.

“I love you,” Kent says again as soon as they break apart for air, and Bitty kisses him on the bridge of his nose. “Eric. Bitty. I love you, I love you.”

“Thank you,” Bitty whispers. “You’re so good. I love you so much.”

Kent doesn’t take his hands off Bitty’s face, just thumbs softly over Bitty’s cheekbones. “I love you.”

 _He wasn’t kidding about coming on strong,_ Bitty thinks, and he smiles into the palm of Kent’s hand, where he leaves another kiss.

  


  


  


Bitty’s sure Larissa knows, but he and Kent both agree that they want to be together quietly for at least a week or two before they share this huge news with anyone else. This ends up being easier said than done, because Bitty might be able to keep a secret from his friends, but he hasn’t kept important information from his mother since he came out to her three years ago, and he isn’t about to start doing it again now.

So he might call his mother the day after he and Kent start dating, right after work when it’s been killing him all day to pretend they’re just co-workers. (Kent is trying to get a clearer picture from Rachel of their workplace policy about relationships between employees of differing seniority levels. And trying, with as much subtlety as is possible in this situation, to get Rachel to make adjustments to said policy.)

Unfortunately, his mother tells his father, and within the hour they are demanding to Skype with Kent.

Bitty does not have a good feeling about the look on his father’s face. He texts Kent a warning that, regardless of what Coach says, Kent is _not_ in danger of being shot by an angry Southern football coach -- or jumped by an obedient high school football team -- if he doesn’t live up to Bitty’s father’s expectations. 

He does relocate the conversation to Kent’s house, though, so his parents can see for themselves how stable and financially responsible Kent really is, and so they can be charmed by Kit, who’s unfairly fluffy and orange. And so Bitty can use his kitchen, which is actually a whole room by itself instead of the four feet of counter space in Bitty’s studio apartment.

After Coach’s opening remarks -- during which he literally utters the sentence “What are your intentions for my son?”, causing Bitty to die on the spot -- Bitty’s mother asks Kent a lot of questions about his cooking, and what his favorite dishes to make are, which Bitty thinks is a polite and friendly way to make conversation and bond over shared interests until she says, “Well, it’s a good thing you can cook for yourself, because of _course_ it’s not Eric’s job to cook for you.”

Kent snaps to attention and says, “Yes, ma’am.” Bitty’s just glad he doesn’t salute. “Absolutely not. We’ll take turns cooking. Actually, Eric’s coming over this weekend and I’m already planning what to cook for him.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” Suzanne says, smiling. Bitty glares daggers at her, but he doesn’t think she notices. “I’m sure he’ll tell me all about it.”

“Don’t be silly,” Bitty cuts in. “The kitchen in my apartment might as well be nonexistent; I’m coming over here and cooking as much as I want.” Bitty grabs onto Kent’s hand and squeezes, holding it tightly where his parents can see. “If you think I’m letting you take care of dinner this weekend, Kent Parson, you have another think coming.”

“Uh,” Kent says, freezing up for a second. He looks like doesn’t know if it’s a worse idea to concede the cooking to Bitty or disagree with Bitty in front of his parents.

Bitty takes pity on him. “But I’m sure you can help.”

“Right,” Kent says uncertainly, and when the Skype call eventually ends, he groans and leans his forehead on Bitty’s shoulder. “I think I need a nap now.”

“Nope,” Bitty replies, kissing Kent’s head and letting Kent use his weight to push both of them further down until they’re lying on the couch together. Bitty really likes this couch, actually; it’s a rich, dark red and has an almost velvety texture. Kent doesn’t let him eat on it, and he has Kit mostly trained to leave it alone. “I didn’t come over here to watch you sleep.” 

Kent twines their legs together. That’s something about him that Bitty is learning, even if it’s not surprising at all -- that Kent wants to be touching all the time, and usually a simple, casual touch isn’t enough. Bitty used to date someone who always needed to keep one of his hands on Bitty, and that had been suffocating. But where that had been possessive and entitled, causing Bitty to pull away, Kent’s way is sweet and open, and Bitty can’t help but snuggle into it whenever Kent reaches for him.

“You weren’t kidding about your old boyfriends being shitty, huh?” Kent says after a few minutes, presumably in reference to the Skype call, and Bitty only responds by pushing his face further into Kent’s chest. Kent lets the subject drop, rubbing one hand up and down Bitty’s back and cupping his other hand around Bitty’s ass, like Bitty has already made it _very_ clear he enjoys.

  


  


  


After that, it’s only fair to let Kent tell his family about Bitty. When Bitty asks what kind of reception he should expect, Kent looks a little shifty and says he doesn’t know.

Bitty puts his hands on his hips and makes his best unconvinced face.

“Well, I don’t!” Kent says. He looks sheepish, maybe. “I don’t date much, I guess? And I haven’t introduced someone I’m dating to them in years. They’re not going to be chill about it at all, but I couldn’t tell you if they’ll be suspicious or, like, over-excited? We’ll see.”

“Okay,” Bitty says, and he can’t stop smiling for a few minutes. 

It turns out that Kent’s family is so excited to meet him that they drive all the way in from New York for the weekend. Kent’s mom puts him at ease right away, charming Bitty with her friendliness and somewhat inappropriate sense of humor, and Kent’s sister is a little shy around Bitty, but she hangs off of Kent at every available moment, whispering and laughing. Bitty’s pretty sure they’re talking about him.

Bitty cooks for them on Friday and Saturday, and Kent physically removes him from the kitchen on Sunday so he can finally keep his word and do some of the cooking while Bitty watches reruns of Say Yes to the Dress with the Parson women, trying to get Kit to cuddle with him even though she keeps ditching him for Caroline’s lap. 

Kent ends up making a frankly delicious green bean casserole, with cheesy potatoes and strawberry-spinach salad on the side, and after Kent’s mom and sister leave, Bitty lies around on the couch for an hour while Kent cleans up the kitchen. “That was so good,” Bitty calls, not sure if Kent can hear him, “and so filling. I feel like I’ll never be hungry again.”

“Mmm,” Kent says, walking into the living room and flicking a dish towel at Bitty. It misses by a mile, but Bitty still shoots him an affronted look. “Thank you. They loved you, you know.”

“Yeah,” Bitty admits. He hopes his own parents can get over their own distrust quickly, because it feels so good to be accepted by his boyfriend’s family, and he wants that same feeling for Kent. “I loved _them_.”

Before bed, when Kent is crowding Bitty against the bathroom door and dropping tiny kisses on Bitty’s hair and face, his phone buzzes for so long that Bitty finally tells him to go see who’s texting him. Ten minutes later, Bitty goes into the living room to find out why Kent hasn’t come back to finish getting ready for bed, and sees that Kent is sitting on the floor, staring at his phone like it’s bitten him.

“What’s up, K?” he asks carefully, not sure if this is serious or not.

Kent immediately flushes. “Oh -- uh -- well --”

“Oh lord, just let me,” Bitty says, sliding down to sit next to Kent on the carpet and adjusting Kent’s phone so he can see the screen. “Shit. Why is your sister talking about marriage?”

“She’s not even kidding,” Kent says. He sounds dazed. “I kept trying to make her say she’s kidding, and she’s _not_.”

Bitty starts laughing; he can’t help it. He laughs so hard some tears slip out, and then he laughs harder when he sees the betrayed look Kent is giving him. “She likes me that much, huh?”

“Oh, be quiet,” Kent grumbles. “Apparently this is the first time she’s believed at all that I could even get married, and she’s getting way too into it.”

“That is --” Well, kind of sad, but Kent just seems so irritated by the whole thing that Bitty can’t help but laugh again. “A lot of expectations for one weekend. Tell her I said thanks, though.”

“I’m telling her you’ll think about it,” Kent says, and Bitty snorts in a definitively unattractive way.

  


  


  


Bitty offers to sit next to Kent on the couch, to hold his hand for moral support while he comes out to his two best friends over the phone, since Kent’s too scared to do it in person, but Kent says he’d rather be alone, so Bitty accidentally creates two dozen dark chocolate cupcakes downstairs while Kent stays in his room with the door shut.

Kent doesn’t come downstairs until the cupcakes have completely cooled off, and Bitty kisses the corners of his eyes when Kent finally joins him, not commenting on how it looks like he’s been crying.

“It went fine,” Kent promises, offering a weak smile, and Bitty offers him a cupcake in return.

They don’t want to stay in for dinner that night, because even if the conversation went alright Kent’s still a little off and needs a change of atmosphere. Bitty takes him to a Mexican place that has the cheapest drinkable margaritas in Boston, and by the time they’re seated Kent’s already smiling all the way up to his eyes again and trying to play footsie under the table.

Bitty giggles and nudges Kent’s foot in return, and he keeps his amazement in check -- they’re in public, with nowhere to hide, and Kent is drawing attention to the fact that they’re together. Bitty smiles at him and enjoys the way his eyes, green in this light, sparkle when he laughs.

They talk about sports until their food comes, Bitty changing the topic every time Kent brings hockey into the conversation, because the only sport that matters is football, and while Kent is welcome to watch as many hockey games as he wants, he is certainly not going to bring Bitty into it. Even if it’s very cute when Kent starts analyzing different offensive strategies, and even if Bitty has already found Kent’s collection of Bruins and Rangers jerseys, and Bitty wants more than anything in the world to see Kent plop down in front of the TV in one of his jerseys and get excited over the game.

They’re still not talking about hockey.

So they talk about football, and Bitty is in the middle of kindly explaining why Kent’s understanding of defensive strategy is entirely wrong when he hears someone yell, “Bits! You did it!”

There’s a commotion, one that leaves Kent laughing into his margarita and Bitty turning bright red as everyone in the restaurant stares at them, and then Holster, Ransom, Chowder, and Farmer are crowding into the booth with them.

In hindsight, maybe Bitty shouldn’t have picked a spot he goes to with his friends all the time.

“This is a date-date, right?” Farmer asks for the fourth time, her fingers a vise around Kent’s arm. She’s the only one of the group who hasn’t met him yet, and she apparently thinks scaring him is the best first impression. “You’re not just taking him out to dinner to be a good boss?”

“I’m not his boss,” Kent says, amused. “And yeah, we’re dating.”

Bitty thinks he’s probably a nerd for the way his heart lights up just hearing it, but then Kent meets his eyes and blushes, and at least they’re nerds together.

“Oh my god,” Ransom whispers. “Oh my _god_.”

Holster punches Bitty lightly in the shoulder. “Dude! Why didn’t you tell us? Did you think this would stop us from getting all up in his face about treating you right? That’s only delaying the inevitable.”

“There’s no _us_ there,” Farmer says. “You are literally the only one who wants to dangle him out the window of a tall building or whatever until he promises to be the best boyfriend ever.”

“Because I’m the only one who _cares_.”

“I just think Bitty can be trusted to figure that out himself,” Chowder says, which Bitty appreciates even if it hasn’t been historically true.

Holster gives Chowder a look, which plainly suggests that he too is remembering the long list of lazy, entitled, controlling, and/or mean string of guys in Bitty’s past.

“Kent is very nice to me,” Bitty cuts in, before anyone discloses something too personal. “He’s wonderful. I love him.”

Ransom nearly spills Bitty’s margarita, which he’d been stealing a drink from. “Holy shit. Holy shit. You just said that.”

“...Yeah?” Bitty’s said it about a million times to Kent, heard it back from Kent a million times, and told all his friends about it before he ever told Kent. He’s not sure why it should be such a surprise.

“You said it in front of Kent, like, really soon,” Chowder explains, and Bitty supposes that would be strange looking in from the outside. “Wowzers. Like, it’s one thing to tell us when you’re just crushing on him and being weird, but it’s way more serious now.”

Kent looks absolutely thrilled. “You told them you were in love with me before we started dating? _Bitty_. That’s cute.”

“It’s not cute,” Bitty mumbles, but he feels Kent trapping one of Bitty’s feet with his own, rubbing lightly across its sole and sides, and Bitty really likes it. “It was just the truth.”

Farmer makes an incomprehensible sound. 

“I’m still watching you,” Holster says to Kent, but any potential threat is lost when Chowder gives Kent a big hug, and when Ransom very seriously tells him, “Welcome to the family.”

“You have weird friends. I like them,” Kent says to Bitty when they’re leaving the restaurant. It’s dark outside, and there’s no one else around in the parking lot. Kent’s looking at him like he wants to press Bitty into the side of the car and do very pleasant things with his mouth, or maybe with his hands, and Bitty pulls Kent closer by the hem of his t-shirt so Kent will just get his hands on him already.

  


  


  


Making out in parking lots is fun and all, but Bitty likes Kent’s house better. (Kent thinks Bitty’s studio is cozy, but the walls are thin, and there are a lot of neighbors. Again, Kent’s house is better.)

So -- between the way Kent likes to pull Bitty’s hair and kiss him a million times across his jaw and neck, and the way Bitty likes to feel every inch of Kent’s body with every inch of his own, it turns out that making out, for them, transitions seamlessly into having sex, and Bitty is delighted at the discovery that even their sex life is so gentle and tender that he’d be too embarrassed to share deets with any of his friends. 

At first Bitty wants to laugh when Kent goes a little overboard with saying “I love you,” or with the way he’s always kissing Bitty’s lips and face and hair -- seriously, Bitty’s not counting, but this must be at least forty kisses in one minute -- but he closes his eyes and leans into it instead. Because it feels good, and because he knows that, to Kent, laughing at him would feel like the equivalent of pushing him away, and because it turns something _on_ in Bitty’s heart in a way he hasn’t felt with anybody else.

Because Bitty has always loved himself, or at least tried to, but this is the first man he’s ever been with who fills him up with more love than he knows what to do with. Afterward, Bitty feels like he might actually be glowing.

“What are you smiling about?” Kent asks, tracing a finger over Bitty’s lips. It just makes Bitty smile more.

“I was thinking,” he says, playing with the blonde hair at the nape of Kent’s neck, “about telling the folks at the office. Did you get things sorted out with Rachel?” 

Kent nuzzles into him. “Yeah. We technically already signed the agreement forms about workplace relationships back when we were hired, but now we have to go over them again. We’ll meet with Rachel as a formality, too, but basically we agree to no PDA at the office and now only Rachel gets to tell you to do stuff like come in early or stay late. Plus I think my handling of your accounts’ financials will have to be reviewed for favoritism if anyone requests that, but only if they actually request it. We’re good.”

“Hmm,” Bitty says. He probably shouldn’t fall asleep in Kent’s bed, because it’s been three days since he slept in his own apartment and he doesn’t want to come on too strong, but then he doesn’t really think Kent is the type of person to be bothered by that. “We have that Fourth of July party on Friday.”

“Yeah,” Kent says. He gives Bitty a transparent look, because he’s obviously forcing himself not to remind Bitty that Thursday is his birthday. Like Bitty would forget. “Are you thinking about bringing food?”

“Oh honey,” Bitty says kindly, “I am bringing food. That’s a given. I was thinking that we should tell them we’re together at the party. If that’s alright with you.”

If the way Kent pulls Bitty closer and goes on kissing him for the next five minutes is any indication, this plan is very alright with him.

  


  


  


For Kent’s birthday, Bitty takes him on a marathon of kitschy, traditional dates that Kent has never actually had the chance to experience before, with a picnic lunch (yes, complete with a checkered blanket) that Bitty made himself, and they spend several extra hours in bed that evening. Kent seems remarkably chill about the prospect of sharing their relationship the next day, and Bitty can barely think about anything that isn’t Kent after being in bed with him, so he doesn’t worry much about it either.

The office party is scheduled to take up the last two hours of the work day, as a sort of apology for working the day after the Fourth of July, especially when it’s a Friday. Kent has a long meeting with a client during most of the morning, and Bitty tries his best to avoid him after that, because he feels like he can only handle this announcement when it’s removed from the context of the regular work day.

He’s distracted enough trying to keep Larissa, Derek, and Will from eating the pecan pies he brought in for the party, anyway. And since Derek and Will have apparently teamed up in their shared goal of stealing pie, Bitty has to keep his wits about him and hardly has time to think about his news.

When Rachel gives them a heads up that the party will be starting in fifteen minutes, Bitty gets up to move his pecan pies onto the counter with all the rest of the treats. He decides to stick around in the kitchen to keep an eye on the pies, but mostly because he’s starting to get nervous. 

He waits as Will sets up the chips and salsa, as Derek arranges a precarious pyramid of different Coke flavors, only to knock it over, and as Larissa puts out a stack of napkins. He isn’t even surprised that she volunteered for that job. Nathan brings in a few boxes of gross store-bought sugar cookies with nasty frosting, and Kent comes in to set a fruit salad on the counter. 

“Hey,” Kent says, quiet next to Bitty. He’s keeping a respectful distance, but Bitty wishes he could just squeeze Kent’s hand right now. He’s so nervous. “Those look really good.”

“Thank you,” Bitty says. He shifts closer so their arms can touch, casual and light. “There’s an extra one in your fridge at home, so leave some for everyone else.”

Kent beams at him, which is ridiculous, and Bitty just wants to press his face into Kent’s shoulder, so he does. 

“Woah,” Derek says. “I didn’t know you two were such good… friends?” 

It feels like everyone is staring at them. They’re the official gays of this workplace, and they’re touching each other, so everyone probably _is_ staring, Bitty knows. 

“We are dating,” Kent says, and he says it awkwardly and like he’s trying to come up with a better way to phrase it in the middle of saying it, but he _says_ it, which is the only job Bitty gave him, and then he reaches down and grabs Bitty’s hand. 

It’s really just a squeeze for comfort, so they can remain outwardly calm while taking out their tension on each other’s hands, but it solidifies what Kent just said, and it creates an instant reaction. Derek drops his paper plate of chips and salsa on the ground in surprise, and Will says, “Wait, what?” like he’s expecting someone to say it’s a big joke, and Nathan is making weird faces at them, excited and with his tongue hanging out and probably qualifying as sexual harassment, but in a way that just makes Bitty laugh. 

“I totally saw this coming as soon as you started working here,” Larissa says in Bitty’s ear when he’s in the middle of being mobbed by congratulatory coworkers. He’s not sure he believes her, but he grins back and tells her to eat some pie.

Rachel is giving Kent a stern look, which Bitty is pretty sure she’s just doing for her own amusement, but Kent stands up even straighter and lets go of Bitty’s hand. Bitty is pretty sure the _no PDA in the workplace_ guideline is going to be a thing of the past soon enough, at least when it comes to something as small as hand-holding, since their office is pretty casual and friendly, but he humors the rule for now and doesn’t grab for Kent’s hand again.

After the news has sunk in and no one really cares about them anymore, Bitty shoulders Kent into the food line so they can fill up their plates and grab a pair of Cokes. They move into the lobby area by the elevators and join Derek, Larissa, Will, and Nathan, plus a couple of people Bitty doesn’t know beyond their first names yet who must be friends with Nathan and Kent. 

Larissa compliments him on the pecan pie, and Derek and Will keep stealing food off each other’s plates, and Nathan demands that Kent leak the fruit salad recipe, even though Kent claims he just got it off the first website that popped up. 

Eventually Bitty can’t take it anymore, and he gives a vague excuse about getting more food and heads back into the kitchen area. There’s no one else in there, and he leans against the counter and hopes that Kent follows him.

Kent does follow him, ten seconds later, and Bitty feels his whole face curve into a smile. “Hi,” he says, more softly than he means to. 

“Hi, baby,” Kent says, because it turns out that he is always two seconds away from breaking out the pet names as long as they’re alone. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m doing great,” Bitty says, and he pulls Kent in by the fabric of his shirt, careful not to stretch it out too much and smiling when Kent leans into him, Bitty’s back pressed against the counter. “Aren’t you worried about someone walking in? I thought you were going to be careful about PDA.”

Kent smooths one hand across Bitty’s cheek, fingers curling against the hair at his temple. “How’s it public if there’s no one else in here?” He sounds like he’s not breathing fully, but that’s okay because Bitty isn’t either. 

Bitty can’t answer anyway, because he would rather loop his arms around Kent’s neck, tugging him down and opening his mouth for Kent’s tongue. He has a thing for getting a little too dirty for public places, and while it’s not like he’s going to have sex with Kent in the middle of their office party, he doesn’t mind if Kent shoves his tongue down Bitty’s throat for a few minutes.

Kent makes a soft sound of surprise, but then he kisses Bitty deeper, running his hands down Bitty’s sides to rest on his waist and nudging between Bitty’s legs with one knee. “-- perfect, you’re perfect,” he whispers into Bitty’s neck when he pulls away for air, and it’s all Bitty can do not to whimper right there next to the cherry Coke.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Larissa yells, and Bitty almost knocks their foreheads together in his hurry to scramble a respectable distance away from Kent, but he realizes a second later that Larissa isn’t actually in the kitchen with them, just shouting from around the corner. “You ready to get back out here? I really want more pie.”

“Can’t it wait?” Kent mumbles, and he’s so genuinely cranky about it that Bitty lets out a little snort of laughter. 

“Come on, sunshine,” Bitty says, tucking himself into Kent’s arms and going in for one more kiss. “The people want more of my pecan pie, and I can’t let them down. Just give it two more hours, and then you can have every inch of me, okay?”

Kent gasps out a breath against Bitty’s ear. “Jesus Christ.”

Bitty fixes Kent’s hair, trailing one finger down Kent’s nose to touch all of his freckles on the way back down. “Thank you for doing this with me, K. It really means a lot.”

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Kent promises, leaning in for another kiss as if that’s not the opposite of what they’re supposed to be doing right now. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Bitty says, smiling against Kent’s lips. “That’s all I want.”

Larissa yells, “Pie!”

Kent snickers and finally pulls away. “Oh,” he says as they grab second helpings from the counter, “I was gonna ask. You’re on a year-long lease at your apartment, right?”

“That’s right,” Bitty says, his skin prickling for more contact. “It’s up next month, actually.”

“Uh.” Kent moves to take the last slice of pie, but then leaves it for Larissa. “I wouldn’t mind if you moved in with me. If you want to. Since your apartment is really small, and you like my kitchen, and you’re there a lot anyway, which is really great, and you could --”

“I love you,” Bitty says, like he can’t help himself, because he can’t.

Kent smiles, flushing a little, and then coughs and turns back to the food when Larissa loudly enters the kitchen, stomping her feet a little. “Okay. Good.”

“That’s a yes,” Bitty adds, and he loves the way joy looks on Kent’s face. He thinks he’s going to be seeing it a lot from now on. He thinks his own face is probably going to look the same way.

“Oh my god, just kiss already,” Larissa says, holding her empty plate in one hand and giving Bitty an impatient look that can’t hide her little smile.

That sounds like a perfect idea, and Bitty doesn’t care if Larissa rolls her eyes at them. He kisses Kent one more time. 

It tastes like pecan pie, and Bitty doesn’t think he’ll ever stop smiling.

  


  


  


**Kent** 7:15 pm  
babe where are u

 **Kent** 7:16 pm  
babe i made quesadillas 

**Kent** 7:18 pm  
baaaabe 

**Bitty** 7:19 pm  
oh sorry!! i was working :)

 **Kent** 7:19 pm  
nope you’re not supposed to be working. that’s why i made quesadillas

 **Kent** 7:20 pm  
wait where are you though?? i literally can’t find you.

 **Bitty** 7:21 pm  
:)

 **Bitty** 7:21 pm  
i invite you to step outside and examine our new garden

 **Bitty** 7:22 pm  
**by the side porch

 **Kent** 7:22 pm  
babe!!!!! 

**Kent** 7:23 pm  
oh my god is it SO beautiful? i can’t believe this im so excited

 **Bitty** 7:24 pm  
come and see :)

 **Kent** 7:24 pm  
on my way

 **Bitty** 7:24 pm  
WAIT actually bring a quesadilla out here please?

 **Kent** 7:25 pm  
way ahead of you babe

 **Bitty** 7:25 pm  
that’s my man. now come see the buttercups! i chose them cause they made me think of you :)

 **Kent** 7:26 pm  
ahhgkad hey did i mention i love you so much

 **Bitty** 7:26 pm  
a few times :)

 **Bitty** 7:26 pm  
now you’d better get out here with that quesadilla, i’m hungry and i miss you

 **Kent** 7:27 pm  
i’m just pouring you some lemonade shhhh

 **Bitty** 7:27 pm  
and i love you too. 

**Bitty** 7:27 pm  
so much.

 **Kent** 7:27 pm  
awww 

**Bitty** 7:28 pm  
my sweet little buttercup.

 **Kent** 7:28 pm  
NO!!!

 **Bitty** 7:28 pm  
come outside, baby.

 **Kent** 7:28 pm  
be right there!!

 **Kent** 7:29 pm  
but you’d better not start calling me that

 **Bitty** 7:29 pm  
you know what, i think i will.

 **Kent** 7:29 pm  
ugh 

**Kent** 7:30 pm  
you’re lucky i love you

 **Bitty** 7:30 pm  
believe me, i know that

 **Bitty** 7:31 pm  
but i’m literally going to die if you don’t get out here with my food 

**Kent** 7:31 pm  
I WAS JUST PETTING THE CAT LET ME LIVE. but i’ll be there in like 8 seconds bits

 **Kent** 7:31 pm  
love you

 **Bitty** 7:32 pm  
thanks buttercup ;)

 **Bitty** 7:32 pm  
and of course, i love love LOVE you

 **Kent** 7:32 pm  
then you can call me whatever you want  <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy oh boy. this was fun, even if it was 100x longer than i anticipated and i lowkey thought my fingers were going to fall off from too much typing. 
> 
> some stuff -- 
> 
> a.) you can listen [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/monstrosit/playlist/0dwDArh9qbOTq7px2fPhCd) to the playlist i made for this fic. i feel very strongly about the inclusion of the song "teenage dream."
> 
> b.) idk if this follows normal fandom guidelines or whatever, but i thought it would be fun to rec another bittyparse fic someone else wrote that i enjoyed?? [thank me later](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8643259) by julliel is a sweet lil 4k work that made me smile.
> 
> c.) also i'm letting you into my ~creative process~ by sharing that i have this massive gdoc with a bunch of bullet points for different story ideas that i choose from whenever it's time to start a new fic, and the only thing i gave myself to go on for this fic was: "Bittyparse with an AU that’s like a mix of The Pina Colada Song & You’ve Got Mail -- Bitty hates Kent, realizes Kent’s the anonymous person, and doesn’t like that; he falls in love slowly without Kent knowing :) :)" 
> 
> sadly, i never had them discuss whether or not they like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain, but i hope you enjoyed it anyway!!!! cheers :)


End file.
